Inchcock Diary: Yesterday & Today

Inchcock Yesterday & Today Diary

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back on the blogging, and…

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Series

Inchcock Today: Liberty-Global Owned Virgin Media, only went down eight times today… Humph!

Ode To The Meal

Not a lot plated, but no danger of maceration,
Preparing this, I got myself another contusion,
Dropped the tray on my foot in confusion…
Fretting over the upcoming phacoemulsification?

A bean-‘n’-cheese and beef pastie, very nice!
Chestnuts to, time for me to gluttonise…
Orange jelly, cream spray… was that wise?
I enjoyed this snack of chestnuts and pies…
Then took my Hemp sleep pill, Gawd, it’s a big size!
Oh, did I just narcotise?

Saturday 19th February 2022

02:40hrs: I woke for only the fifth time of the sleep, but this time not with any jumping or jerking. The brain was more responsive than yesterday’s Whoopsiedangleplop of an awakening. I pondered on the chances of getting back to sleep, but the Thought Storms started… so I rose from the depths of welts and bruises-giving £300, a second-hand recliner, caught my balance easy enough, and limped into the kitchenette to get the kettle on for a brew.

A sudden need to photograph, at that moment, so I went hobblingly back to collect the Canon camera: I tried to get a photo or two,

I tried to get a photo or two,
Of the twinkling morning view,
Opened the window, carefully too,
The sky is now a lovely dark blue…
The results are still under review…
Here on the left for you…
To see and even phoo-phoo,
Sorry, this is the best I could do!

Taking the last one…
I got a wobble on…
It’ll be alright, I reckon…
Another cock-up; not uncommon!

Off to the Porcelain Throne. Yet another change in evacuation style, from messy, runny Trotsky Terence mode yesterday, back to the solid Constipation Konrad style. Ah-well! It came out well. Hahaha!

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana. Then made a start on updating and finishing off the Friday blog. Hello…

Cor blimey, Herbert’s started banging and clanging away early again. It’s only 0435hrs? Still, I don’t mind, and I am the most vulnerable to his tap-tapping, drilling and clattering of falling metal objects, with living below the ignorant, antisocial, unapproachable, haughty, superior-acting haughty, Snotbag, with my dwelling directly below him. I’m amazed he doesn’t wake others up – not that he woke me, anyway. I assume he’ll be sniggering to himself, thinking that he has disturbed my sleep. Animal!

Doing blogging again, getting the Friday post finished and posted off. Herbert’s quietened down, bless him. I sent the link emails off. Went on the WP comments sections then Opened Facebook…

Would you believe it... again! It’s every single day and several times… Grrr!

And this number-crunching boss of Liberty-Global, who bought to Virgin Media, is deemed to be earning a rare salary of $23M a year! He must really hate his customers! And can’t run his Virgin without failing and annoying his poor sodding customers. But, still, advertises super-speed service? He’ll think, “The limey slobs shouldn’t have signed up with Virgin then… Haha!” And he’d be right!


The slow Virgin internet returned, and I got on with Facebooking. TFZers, then tried to go on the Winwood Heights Facebook page. Virgin down yet again… Annoyed? Frustrated? Me? YES!

Care Taina arrived. I mentioned the poor state of the laundry, keeping things as light-hearted as I could; the nice gal didn’t want her to think I was blaming her for the crumpled unfolded clothes.

I tempted my Carer, her to her choice of nibbles and drink in thanks. She took the waste bag with her on the way out.

Bless her cotton socks.

During Taina’s visitation, I spotted that suddenly the late moon was in view again in the sky. I hastily grabbed the Canon camera and went to the kitchenette to take some photographicalisations of the planet. Pet from the oddly different blues of the sky, which is likely caused by my dropping the camera the other day, they didn’t come out too bad?

Did some graphic creating for a while on CorelDraw and tried Facebooking again. Hard work concentrating with the contemptuous, hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, antisocial Herbert bashing away. Phew! Hello, he’s stopped…

Blimey, the days going so quickly again. Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, showed a slight increase in the SYS, the DIA, also the PULSE was fine.

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, the contactless thermometer was alarming at first glance? Well into the Hypothermia range level! I wasn’t sure if this reading was correct, so I tried talking about the temperature on the ear thermometer. But, as usual, technology got the better of me; all I could get was a ‘Lo’, without an actual temperature. Humph! There is a way to get the reading, but the writing is too small for me to see it.



I’m giving up, fed-up, tired, mildly depressed and frustrated!

Oh great! Herbert’s off again, a bit of drilling if I’m not mistaken… mind you, it might be music; listen? If that’s music, it had undertones of Horst-Wed del-Lied, to me.

Going to get summat to eat now. Hopefully, there will be something on the goggle-box to watch that should guarantee me getting some sleep.

Breakneck dash to the Porcelain Throne! Just in time, too. Despite the solid content, things came out at breakneck speed. Oooh!

Got then nosh made, took a snap of it, and now the computer import is not recognising the feeder drive or photo input again.

This could mean the end of any new photos getting on the blog… or anywhere. Humph!

Sat down and nodded off. Carer Chloe arrived and did the medicationalisationings, tablet and medicine-wise. I almost asked her to give me Anoxaparin injections in my stomach, but she didn’t; that would have been horrendous for her, having to bury her arms into the folds of my stomach mass to get a grip of the clump of wobbly-flesh to inject into on both sides… No, too scary for her. Hehehe!

She selected a can of orange and an Easter egg for her treats. Took the waste bags out with her for me to the chute. Bless her!

I hope I can get photos onto the computer in the morning, but EQ tells me I won’t be able to.

Ode To The Day

Deferably I’ve had many a better day…
Whoopsiedangleplops were on display,
Accifauxpas, havocking, as bad as they may…
Computer on its last legs, I must say…
Cataracts made seeing, even harder today,
The photo-reader, not working, Oh, dismay!
The laundry returned to me, in disarray
Noisy Herbert morning, before and after midday,
My strength to cope, usually in a fairish way,
Has collapsed, this mentally-challenging Saturday!
No bath to soak in, in hope problems will soakaway,
Little going right, will things get better? Nay!
Getting my head down, brought mental affray…
Depression creeping in, like maggots or larvae…
Thought-Storms torment, ballistically!
In a  dream… things went apocalyptically…
Sour dysthymias, will not go away…
I want them too… I can only pray!

A Slightly Depressing Day, for which I am Sorry

Inchcock Today – Tuesday 10th October 2017

Tuesday 10th October 2017

0145hrs: I woke in the £300 second-hand recliner with my pyjama top off (folded neatly on the chair next to the recliner?) and horripilation over both cold arms and hands. The untaken evening medication pot on the Ottoman. A few seconds spent wondering what, how and why this has happened. The pondering abruptly ended when demand from the innards arrived for my urgent attention and utilisation of the Porcelain Throne.

The recliner refused to operate when the button was pressed. Near panic broke out as I excogitated on the easiest, safest and quickest way to manipulate my way out of the recliner. I think I gained some bruises as I did so, but it didn’t take too long.

Got on the Throne and battled against the now reluctant evacuation. No cleaning up needed after this session. Luckily the Lenigrad book was to hand for a read during the exodus. During which I recalled a bit of the dreaming I’d done earlier, not much, though. I think I was trapped in a deep oubliette with torture equipment around, thumb screws, pit and pendulum and one of those coffin-like boxes with spikes sticking inside, which is where I was, bleeding and yet trying to do a crossword using my finger dipped in blood, to fill in the answers. I even remember it was the Daily Sketch (As was).

I got a shirt on sharpishly afterwards and made my way back to the recliner. Tried the button on the control, and it worked?

Was I suffering from madness, dementia, derangement, lunacy, insanity? Do I now qualify as a crackpot, crank or eccentric? The reason for taking off my jacket? Why did the recliner controls not work earlier? Why is my Throne Session changing to opposite extremes almost daily? Why is my toothache so much worse this morning? Why is my skin looking so pale? On and on the self-questioning trundled into my already confused grey-cells. This was too much for my head to handle, and my brain gave up looking for logicality and explanations, explication, illumination or interpretation, and decided a mug of tea would help better?

Health Checks and medications were seen to.

Got on with finishing the Monday diary and got it posted.

0440hrs: Finally got this journal started off. Until 0600hrs, when I got the ablutionalisationing duties done. Taking no chances, I donned a pair of the protection pants after medicationalising specific areas.

On the way out I took the rubbish bags to the chute, and empty balsamic vinegar bottle to the still overflowing recycling bin.

0700hrs: Started the walk to the surgery along Chestnut Walk. Took this photograph of the Winchester Flats, car park and the works for the new-build block of 44 flats. It was not cold at all out there. Mind you, I was well wrapped up and had the ‘Hot Pants’ on under the trousers. Hehe!

Turned right at the end of the road, down Winchester Street Hill. All quiet on the Eastern Front.

Along and up Mansfield Road and near the Sherwood Arms pub, this lass of a Nottingham Pavement Cyclist appeared riding towards me.

She missed me by inches and seemed to be unaware of how close, in her own little woolgathering world.

Up and over the brow of the hill. Only to be faced by another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist coming at me.

This one knew alright, for he giveth me a look that should have killed me on the spot really, so vile was it as he passed me by. I do not think he liked being photographicalised?

Further down the hill and the traffic began to increase.

The car turning left clipped the van coming out of the sideroad.

Or it might have been the other way around of course.

Walking passed and leaving the altercation behind me, and would you believe it, another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist approached me, from behind this time! I had the camera in my hand still, but so fast was his speed, he was just tiny in the photo, and I zoomed in too! Tsk!

Into the surgery. One receptionist told me to take a seat the moment she saw me, so I sat down. The other receptionist called me back, saying me she had something for me from last week. She bent down and produced the crossword book I thought I’d left on a bus, for me. I thanked her. Sat down and got out the new crossword book, and seconds late Nurse Nichole came out to collect me. She was not in a good mood or spirits for some reason. She was still gorgeous with a kind nature, but I could tell something was amiss with her life. My EQ is never wrong by much. This concerned me, as she is usually a little more spritely, effervescent than she was this morning. But seeing her again, still lifted my demeanour. Gave her the bag of nibbles and thanked her.

On leaving, the receptionist said they would call me with the results when they get them back, so I would know next weeks dosages and could make arrangements with the dentist either way for Friday.

Today’s appointment is so early, after I got a TV magazine from the newspaper shop, that the Lidl store had not opened. So I had a walk around Carrington for a while reminiscing, unhappily. I came across this Nottingham Street Art near the lamppost as I approached the Lidl Store.

I wandered around in no big rush, as I didn’t fancy the foot-slog back into Sherwood, but was stubbornly telling myself not to pay the £2 bus fare, as it was still way too early for me to use the free bus-pass. Humph!
Ended-up buying lemon fools, Orange & Lime fresh juice, milk, bananas and some Haddock-in-batter. Had to use the self-serve counters, because there was no one on the tills. Again I struggled, and someone came over and made it look easy, but he did not tell me what I was doing wrong.

Began the march back into Sherwood, with all the foot-slogging yesterday, the feet were painful and stinging now.

I turned back near the brow of the highest hill and took a photographicalisation of the none-moving traffic.

Down the hill into Sherwood, and on the opposite side of the road, yet another one of the notorious Nottingham Pavement Cyclists was belting down the slope.

I got the camera out, and was surprised later to find he was a blur on the picture!

Onward and up the next hill. I was not doing too bad with the hobbling indeed under the circumstances.

I called ar the Wilko store and got some washing freshener granules, Fragrance Boost or whatever they call them. Then I decided to treat Wardens Deana and Julie to some fresh cream cakes and called in the Birds shop and got some.

Near the top of the crest of the hill, yet another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist took my attention. He’d shot across the Pedestrian Pelican Lights at such speed, he nearly hit the lamppost outside the abandoned, soon to be a new Gym property. But he corrected his Wayward-Whoopsiedangleplop well.

Up over the top and down to the Woodthorpe Grange Park gates.

Where the fatigue of the long walk caught up with me.

I had to stop a while to recover. Soon felt much better and set off on the walk to the top of the park and right down to the flats.

1130hrs: Into the apartment without seeing anyone and unpacked the bag and put the things away. Put the cakes in the fridge to take down for the gals later.

A wee-wee and set about updating this diary.

1258hrs: I nipped down to the hut with the cakes for the wardens. Obergefreiteress Julie was in. We had a friendly natter while she worked on her computer, and I put the cream-cakes in their fridge and set off back to the flat. I met Obergruppenfurher Warden Deana and the gal from the building company, and we had a conversation. They would be calling in the morning twixt 0900 > 1100 to do the balcony sealing off.

Once more up to the apartment and a wee-wee,  washed, then got the tomatoes halved and marinating in White Wine Vinegar, the baked beans with added balsamic vinegar into the saucepan, and got the instant spuds and cheese ready, also heated the oven-ready for use later. Then took the midday medications. By gum, that sounds as if I am almost organised. Haha!

Had a go at catching up on Facebook. Fingers crossed it will work a little better this time, without the freezing and going slow. No, just as bad if not worse now. Grr!

The tap-tapping gain from upstairs.

Got the fish fodder sorted.

Health Checks and medications taken.

Cleaned the pots and thought it a good idea to try and clean the oven up as best I could manage.

Accifauxpa: Stopped trying to do this after I burnt the back of the hand on the oven sides. Antiseptic cream applied.

Settled into the recliner waiting for a call from the surgery with my INR reading results as promised by the Doctors surgery receptionist. It did not arrive.

Checked the Emails.

They had sent the weeks doses, and next appointment for the blood test, but failed to inform me of the INR Level Results.

I had especially asked them to do this morning. To try and sort out the dentist farce and get my teeth tended to!

Oh, dear, most disappointing. Sent a request back to the surgery for the badly grammared Email received, begging for the INR level again!

Went for a wee-wee, and was most startled to find the silly protection pants with blood in them. At first, I was a little concerned that Little Inchy’s fungal-lesion had started bleeding again.

Are these ailments all sempiternal, will any relief be possible?

Luckily, it was not Little inchy, but Haemorrhoid Harold who had supplied the blood that filled the pants. Phew!

So glad I was wearing the protection pants today! Even if they are a devil to manipulate when I need a wee-wee. You’ve got to laugh!