What a marathon, a pleasurable hypersleep! When I woke, my joy did reep… But I’m not going to threap… But I did spend nearly an hour on the toilet seat!
The carer gals ganged up on me… but I was alreet,
I dropped two tablets, but they only spotted one!
Still, I gave them a nibble and drink as a treat,
If I left it to them, I’d be dead and gone!
Thanked them and carried on…
Getting the beans, seasonings and chunks of meat,
Carefully prepping the chilli for Josie’s luncheon!
I was already feeling somewhat smugger, Until I went to the Throne, a right bugger! Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding, the flow rate larger… Then I realised, the fungal lesion was bleeding too! But I began to get a little cheerier, One thing that went well though, was the poo! The Brute worked, and I cleaned up getting things drier, Again, I as soon felt frumpier, Had another toe stumper!
Got Josie’s nosh sorted, but it was a scramble…
Too long doing this blog as a preamble…
So I rushed the prepping; took a gamble,
But didn’t land in the proverbial…
The tray prepped, I dropped some bit… that’s immaterial…
It was delivered on time, keeping my record was essential,
Josie was in spirits, a chinwag was attainable,
Wished her good eating, and Josie was delightable!
Back to the kitchen, tap left running again, I’m blameable!
Got the pots washed and put away, then, being so capable…
I’ve the habit of doing this, I dropped the kettle…
Burnt my leg, took ages to clean the mess, I’d had a bellyful!
I’d broken the handle against the table!
Took a photo of the end car park, just because I was able!
My frustrations with myself, are indescribable,
Self-loathing, grudgeful, and yet, also grateful?
I suddenly realised I was really lucky!
Or do I mean highly gullible?
I’m still going, not strong, but plucky…
I’m not sinful, and definitely not skilful…
Why thinking like this, confusion was plentiful,
I’d better get on with the blog before I get forgetful…
Yet, for some reason or other, I don’t feel stressful?.
Local News Snippets
This is a sport?
Violence to report…
A game, tempers short?
Well, not my sort!
Well said Police Officer Sarge…
Amazing, can you enlarge?
Will anyone be charged?
I don’t mean to be a targe!
So sad, I used it so many times!
An anti-social behaviour injunction?
He’s a scumbag, give him a vaccination!
One that might improve his sensitisation…
Pentobarbital should help is putrefaction!
Nottinghamianese to the core!
How many years will the animal be given?
Will he be yet another freed prisoner to kill again?
Judges, parole pillocks show stupefaction…
Or should the question be when?
Another potential killer.
Inchcocks Postcode crime figures…
Can’t say that they assure us…
Police redundancies and station closures!
Stabbings, murders, bleachings, fractures…
The courts give them stiff lectures…
The odd lengthy sentence in the mixtures,
But the worst of devious plicatures…
Are they are better of inside… time for reflectures?
I know, I know… but it rhymes! Hehehe!
Particularly nasty, bearing in mind who she was working for!
LATE NEWS FLASH!
♥ I put the photo of Lisa on the header, cause she’s lovely! ♥
Covid-19 and Sars-CoV-2, why they came, is what I’m thinking?
Government confused findings, need reabsorbing…
Pandemic and HMG hold a party, hobnobbing?
Annoyed me, so this Ode I’m now scribing…
Yet, to their rules, I’ve been acquiescing,
Two years now, since any Doctor interfacing,
Definites, the Government are sidestepping?
I feel like I’m permanently convalescing,
Anti-maskers are not exactly applauding…
Anti-vaccers protests showing no signs of concluding,
Jab or mask-wearing? Some are not deciding…
I follow the guidelines, but it can be confusing,
Doing what you can to protect others is frustrating,
Between the Do’s and the Don’ts, there’s bile offloading,
No give or understanding of others, compassion is subsiding,
Sarcasticness abounds, even where I am residing!
Coronavirus arrives, HMG problems beginning,
Changes meant more hassle, problems teething,
Proletariats, needing hopes strengthening,
Some vague chance of things improving…
New strains, deaths, started the mudslinging…
Ordinary voters started teeth-gnashing,
Anti-vaxxers and maskers began badmouthing,
But some uncaring folks just started shrugging,
Accusing HMG of ignorance and gross mismanaging,
The businesses set out to gain more profit – I’m seething!
Indeed, we should be encouraging, not rubbishing?
Official figures are baffling and misleading,
Dyscalculia makes it difficult in reading…
Have the Governments been Shanghaiing?
In favour of financing, from businesses and banking?
Are their advisors’ advising wrongly and failing?
Does their arriere-pensee to us need rethinking?
How do they stop the money-men from sabotaging?
The bankers, investors from profit-pocketing?
Indeed it’s impossible to stop them interfering and scavenging?
And, whatever’s happened to the political duelling?
No calls from Labour, as Kinnock would have been lambasting?
Lib-Dems are still about, are they? I’m just asking!
I think I worked it out; why is the silence blasting?
They both think, thank heavens, we are not ruling…
All this confusion, entangling… they’ve no idea of detangling,
So give Boris no bother, or at the subsequent voting…
The masses may vote for us, and we win… nonplussing!
The thought of us dealing with things is blood-curdling!
Labour in power, cause enough for frightful caterwauling!
Well, that’s enough of my HMG & Covid caterwauling,
Not such a good Ode, this one, it left me… Tsking!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
WHY AM I SO UNLUCKY?
I’ll start with one event, the heart thing,
That was not unlucky; it did not leave me whining!
This operation saved my life… Else I’d have been missing…
The Hernia, Peripheral Neuropathy and Colin Cramping,
Cancer of the bladder, and stroke, and a lot of bemoaning. Hehe!
Being an unlucky sod can be so time-consuming,
Leaving very little time left for resting and vacuuming,
A Whoopsiedangleplop, maybe the Thought Storms brewing…
A memory loss, missed bus, lost keys or painful burping…
From near-deadly to a tap left running or finger burning,
Ailments, senility and old age means the end of by beep-bopping,
The worst is Vascular Dementia, the brain transitioning…
My diabetes and oedema cause much bother urinating,
Each morning, the feet will be either bloated or very thin,
It’s not so bad since I stopped doing my trampolining,
The tumbling or fallings is constantly threatening… Neuropathy and Shaking Shoulder Shirley are disquietening!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I regularly get subconjunctival haemorrhaging,
Saccades and the new eye problems are definitely worrying,
Floaters, cataracts and glaucoma, almost frightening!
Everything taking longer to do, from the ablutioning…
Painful bending to retrieve dropped items can sting!
Oh, and evacuations on the Throne, and Wee-weeing!
I nearly always cut myself shaving,
Sometimes taking many minutes peeing…
Occasionally, taking only seconds at urine freeing!
The Porcelain Throne, often with evacuation misfunctioning.
Porcelain Throne options for me are; water-like spurting…
Which can be over like lighting!
Or resistant, rock-hard, and bloody,
Either or both are constantly hurting and agony!
Cleaning, me or the flat internally, is so burdening,
Seems nowadays to take an eternity, and much groaning,
Hardly any time for my beloved Word Pressing,
My confidence is egringolering…
My hearing is worsening…
Every task’s success is gimping!
The leaking blood through the plaster was bubbling!
But it was not at all troubling…
Cause actually, it made me do some laughing…
Which I found rather refreshing!
I woke around 04:20hrs: With some memories of the dream still prattling about in the brain. I lunged to get the notepad and pencil from the Ottoman; and realised they were lying between my legs, and well scribbled on, too! (Somnambulistic activity?) So I added the new bits to it and left the pages to be used later in my reminiscing of the ultra-weird dream.
Off into the kitchen, no taps, stove or lights had been left on. More amazingly, Shaking Shaun was not affecting the legs again! That’s been around eighteen hours of relief, now!
I took a photo of the clear dark morning sky. And decided not to make a brew of Glengettie, 99, or even the usual refreshing Thompsons Punjana tea; this bothered me!
Something was out of sync here this morning… most likely me! Summat up here! No shaking legs, no toothache, no desire for a mug of tea, not wanting a wee-wee…
However, I maintained my earlier om waking, almost gung-ho, hey-ho outlook, and just pressed on with updating the Facebook, catching up a bit with it anyway. I was humming the door chimes’ tune to myself, not in need of a cuppa, and as I thought I was also not in need of a wee-wee… the flow started. And continued approximately every fifteen minutes and was only taking the occasional swift swig of the spring water?
As I indicated earlier, things seem discrepant, incompatible, and incongruous today. Yet I am not put out by this… at the moment.
Working on Facebook, I came across last nights photograph of my meal. This brought back to me how tasty it was for once. Fresh garden raw peas from Nicaragua, tomatoes from Holland, sausages from Poland, chips from England, and part-baked oven cobs from Ireland. American BBQ sauce. An international feast! That I gave a Taste-Rating of 8.2/10!
I went on the WordPress reader, had a wee-wee, answered some comments, took a pee, readied this blog, had a slash, and the door chime chimed out its ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune. It was the morning Carer came to sort out my medications. No messing with this gal, all done nada off in eight minutes, kindly taking the waste bags to the chute for me as she departed.
Minutes later, the ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune chirped up again. This was the Sainsbury’s order arriving. Boy, had I ordered a lot or what? I’d got some cheapo eggs in. Ten for £1.10.
After taking in the items, I managed to get the chuckles into the fridge; first, there was only enough room, and I had to do a bit of jiggling around to get them into the fridge door.
They were mixed in sizes from diddly to small. Hehe! Not that it mattered to me. They were all a lovely deep brown colour.
I knew there was not much room in the freezer, so I only ordered some McCain flavour maker fries. Although I somehow managed to buy three packets of them… £9 spent there!
The first load of fresh stuff into the fridge were, Fresh peas and a milk roll loaf. Humph! Another cock up made, I’d obviously ordered three bags of potatoes, all of a different type.
Ready meal foods next. Five of the prepared meals; four Sausage in onion grainy and sweet potato mash, and one chilli and chips, all watchers, WW! Three packets of cooked bacon. (Guilty!)
Then the costly, naughty, wicked, and guilt-ridden things were put away. Oh, dearie me, yes! Three Lemon Cheesecakes. Mandarin pieces in orange jelly and two fresh cream eclairs… no, that should be doughnuts. Ahem! A substituted for lemon yoghourts. Lemon & Lime Possets. (Ahem!) I’ve never heard of these before, but on reading the ingredients: Double cream, whipping cream, lemon juice, lime juice, sugar, lemon zest, thickener, agar and cornflour – I realised how bad it was, and decided not to eat it, naturally.
I took the rubbish bags accrued by storing the fodder away to the rubbish chute room. Then it happened… The shaking and wobbling started again en route with the bags. Luckily I’d taken the stick with me; thus, I avoided having an Accifauxpa and tumble!
I can’t say the same thing for inside the chute room. Tsk! Nowt too lousy mind, just a trapped finger and back-Pain Brenda kicked off after I knocked the stick over and bent down to retrieve it. I’ve had a lot worse.
I got back in the flat and decided that if things were getting back to normal with the ailments, I’d take an extra painkiller now, have another wee-wee, and get the kitchen floor cleaned while I was still capable. So, I did!
BPB was not too happy with me, but she could have been a lot worse. Arthur Itis was almost nonexistent as I treadmilled mop bucket spinner. I did manage a toe-stubbing in the process, but only a mild effort, so I pressed on with the job, even humming a tune to myself?
Until I emptied the bucket down the lavatory; I gave myself a really good toe-stubbing then! It made me wince a little, and I just may have used a naughty word or two… perhaps, maybe.
That was bad enough, but then I dropped the bucket and got covered in the sweet smell of lemon disinfectanted but dirty water! I hit my knee with the mop stay and generally sank down from my previously almost cheerful state to a genuinely pissed-off with myself semi-depressed!
I was even angry with myself! I may well have growled and questioned my parentage! I’d gone from being practically flippant and almost uncaring, not concerned, to a deep depression instantly! My world had been turned on its head. I knew it had to happen! Back to the lucky bugger I am, that things being almost semi-content, just couldn’t last, and I knew it. Thinking this actually helped me to perk back up a smidgeon.
Go me and the place cleaned up, had a wee-wee, and got on the computer to start this blog. After five minutes, I was back at the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with a lot of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). That needed shaking and wiping – and…
The door chime chimed again; I had to pack things away swiftly, as I saw a shadow had let itself in along the corridor, and I did not want to make whoever it was to laugh by displaying Little Inchy.
Esther, the cleaning lady, came in. Unfortunately, in my rush and haste to get Little Inchy undercover, his Fungal Lesion started bleeding! I couldn’t just leave her and get it medicated, but I don’t think she noticed anything she shouldn’t have. So, I had to grin and bear it.
The gal got straight on with gathering and taking the laundry for me. Esther returned after I’d cleaned and medicated Little Inchies problem. Now I had a little more pain to put up with!
But I coped well enough, back to the usual style of semi-coping and mild agony. Haha!
When Esther returned, I got the new ironing board unwrapped, and the gal got using it quickly. I was amazed at how fast she was doing the ironing for the first time on the new board.
She hung up the clothes in the hallway for me; bless her! After that, I got the chair covers back on and started to feel more my usual self.
Laundry down for me; bless her. A lot of what she said, a little too fast for me, and when I asked her what she said, the volume was too high, and her speed was the same. I hope I’ve not missed anything that was important? I thanked her, and she shot off. She’s a kind thing. ♥
So, I decided to get a mug of tea at last; as I stood up, shoeless, I trod on something hard, sharp and tiny. Can you believe it… I can, Hehehe! It was yet another escaped, dried like granite garden pea! How the heck do I not see or find them earlier? I’ve hoovered the carpet near the computer several times last and once this, and still, it gets missed! It must have been fled weeks ago, to be that hard? Ah, well!
It’s getting dark earlier than ever today. Took a snap of the end car park.
Then back to working on this blog. In between going for a leak, of course. Then fatigue dawned on me, so I stopped to get some nosh sorted.
As I was prepping the fodder, surprisingly, suddenly everything seemed to light up. The sun was having one last attempt at coming through, and I got the camera to snap it. Not a good effort, but still.
Sausages with a drop of onion gravy, carrot and leek potatoes, coiled potatoes finished off in the oven, fresh Nicaraguan garden peas, and a Lemon & Lime posset pot. Not as good as last night’s, but a score of 7/10 for flavour was given.
Washed the pots and back to the chair to eat the posset… Zzzz! Off into a deep sleep, I trundled and had the dream, as I had mentioned earlier…
I was in a shopping centre or big market. As I went along, it dawned on me that the three-wheel walker was behind me, and I was pushing a shopping cart ahead; I turned to look for a supermarket where I assumed I had taken the shopping trolley; from… Then noticed that the three-wheeler was following behind, under its own steam? Then as we came to an escalator, I hesitated, and other shoppers were getting annoyed, asking me what the problem was.
I said I can’t get on the escalator with two trolleys… and I got the oddest of looks, and people laughed at me. One woman asked if I’d escaped from somewhere?
“What’s its name?”
“The trolley you pillock!” “Tsk! are you poorly or what?”
“I call it my walker?” With which she snapped her fingers and commanded, “Walker… Fly! I thought, even in the dream, something’s not right here? But the three-wheeler raised up like a Darlek in Dr Who and flew gently down to the bottom of the escalator!!! Wait for me at the bottom!”
When I followed the others down, I realised that there were no moving steps, just a controlled cushion of air, that we were using?
And I could see down on the floor below, trolleys of all sorts waiting for their owners and running to their side when they got down. And mine did the same? seeing other folks sending the trolleys to get things from the shops, I tried it… “Walker, Boots, get a large tube of Germolene!” And of he waddled off to the Boots store…
A ganglet of young ladies surrounded me, asking for my signature, and would I sing them a song? Like pricking a bubble, instantly they were all gone?
I sat on a bench, trying to make sense of all this…
I was woken up by Carer Lisa. I didn’t mention the dream.
Lisa did the medications, and she shot off; she was busy tonight.
Starting with the morning views from the kitchenette:
Oh, how lucky I am to have such a fantastic view!
Taken from the mini-kitchenette window,
The lights were brighter than they show here, though,
Can’t keep my hands steady enough, which makes me feel blue,
Cause of the ailments I recently did accrue,
Neuropathy, the stroke, Shaking Shaun, to name a few,
But I have done my bestest, and that is true…
Determined they would be good enough to show you…
But there you, I’ll just continue…!
Bottles For Sister Jane and Pete
Amongst them, a newly discovered brew,
Highly rated by some of the Caring crew,
Easy opening, no need for a corkscrew,
Reported back to me as, as being taboo,
It is tangy and sweeter than honeydew!
19-hr slow-cooked potatoes!
I noticed them when I but my finger,
on the hotpots side, made me whinger!
I turned it off, I didn’t malinger…
I bit a spud; it was so much tastier,
And planned a meal hastier… (well, it’s all I find to rhyme!)
My Planned Recipe!
Microwave poached Eggs Included
My hunger was not controllable,
I needed something digestible…
And made this meal, it was more than passable,
It came out absolutely delectable!.
What a feast yet again, most desirable!
I was in my eyeholes; it smelt indescribable…
Then rangeth out the doorbell… Oh, Hell!
Twas the Amazon Delivery
And the gits left all the parcels down in the lobby again! Boy did I have problems getting them up to the flat? Yes! The scumball had left about a dozen other packages on the floor and table, for other flats, too! Not too bad for them, there was only one small box or packet for each, Mugwumph here had a few more to collect.
One hell of a job, but somehow or other I managed to get them on the walker-trolley in one go – a bit dangerous, but still. The photo was taken as I got them inside the flat door.
I knocked over the carpet cleaner freshener and burst open as I struggled to carry the goods through to the kitchenette.
The extra handicap of the reaction to the Booster Jab; made my doing anything, taking an inordinately much longer time than usual. Thus, it was nearly midnight last night by the time I’d got the blog finished and posted. Although aching and in pain, and really needed to get some sleep. The mind and body wanted to close down. But, Inchcock, an epicurean, foodie, glutton, gourmet, chow-hounder, and well-known foodaholic, put an end to any thoughts of joining in with any Sweet Morpheusness for a while.
I foolishly started to make a belated meal, and a mini-feast it was too! At last, come around about 01:00hrs, I got it served up.
Raw fresh peas from Nigeria. (Shame the ones from Peru are not available, they were sweeter than the Nigerian ones by a mile, but beggars can’t be choosers when things are out of season) Oven-baked potato slices, tomatoes, crispy smoked bacon was the main course. The bacon was eaten in slices of milk roll bread and was dunked in some absolutely great tasting Thai sweet chilli sauce. I was satisfied with the substituted bottle; as for where I got it from, well, I’ll get some more from Amazon.
Which reminds me, I’ve got some diabetic bamboo socks delivered today. Well, that’s what I say! Bearing in mind my cock-up stroke Whoopsiedangleplop with Sainsbury’s and Morrison’s order dates, I get them arriving yesterday; when my Google calendar clear says that the Sainsbury one is coming Monday and the Morrison one on Tuesday… I’m sinking into the morass mess of mental mayhem of memory mishaps. It has to be admitted. Vascular Dementia Doreen is to blame, methinks.
Of course, you have to bear in mind that it is me we are talking about! No chance! Anyway, I feasted well, did some belching, took an extra Codeine, and flaked out on the recliner searching for sleep…
Sleep as I recall it, when I got up for my fifth wee-wee, at 03:00hrs, seemed far away, a luxury denied me again! Thought Storms Stewart kicked of the instant the eyelids drooped and threatened to nod off. It’s incredible how many things you can fear, hate, smile and laugh about, returning memories to torment you on your failed options and actions. Self-disgust, the injustices of those in charge, shames… not to mention the ailments having a go at you. I had no idea what time I got off into the land of nod, but I kept waking up thinking, I’d better get up, the carer will be here soon – then nodded off again.
The Doctor’s response to this problem when I spoke with her (a few years ago now, of course) Was, “Yes, many older people get this… any other problems?” I decided not to bother her further.
As I woke for the umpteenth time and was going through the routine of planning to get up, then falling asleep again, the door chime rang out its loud, ♫ Oh, Susanna ♫ tune. Gawd, it was late! Carer Richard came in to find a foggy-brained Inchcock staggering up out of the recliner. Hahaha! Fair enough, he does usually find me fuddle-brained anyway.
Richard asked the required medical question, as they do on a Monday. And did a wristlet alarm check to ensure the signal was getting through to the Nottingham City Homes people.
It was his last call, and I enjoyed a little nattering and moaning session with the lad. I thanked and treated him, and off he went.
Then as I put the kettle on belatedly, I took some shots of the morning’s misty views from the kitchenette window.
The photographs didn’t help my spirits much, Didn’t cheer me up; I still felt I was a bit of a schmuck, An old man, (Gillie) again being lovestruck… If she was to adopt me, I’d be thunderstruck!
I wonder when the socks will arrive, they’re made of bamboo, Had to get some; it’s too cold not to wear them now, Boo-Hoo! I’ll check the Amazon tracker; that’s what I’ll do… Nine stops away, couldn’t ask for better, could you! The socks seem to be of reasonable value… One can’t say that very often of Amazon, can you?
In an effort to cheer missen up, I perused the box of gifts that HRH Lisa and Billum had sent to me from Fort Thomas in the USA. I know, I wasn’t going to open it until Christmas Day, but anyway…
The box within the box was so pretty, it had to have been decided on by a lady. I put it on the server trolley and investigated away! But I’ll not put them on display until Christmas day.
Just look at all the work Lisa must have put into making these for me!
She even named them for me in the card she sent with them! ♥
Crazy Furry Goat (Goliath), Long Eared Rabbit (Roger), Wacky Cat Kawaii. Pink Fuzzy Monster (Malcolm), Rudikth, the Red-Nosed Reindeer! The names in brackets are those I’m considering giving them when they get on display and become along with Koala and Teddy Bear, my morning chinwagging partners! ♥
I’ll have to make sure I give them names that I might remember. Otherwise, they will get confused about who I am talking to if I use the wrong word. Hehehe! They put in some ‘Moon Pie’ cakes as well. They are not available in the UK. And they look rather tasty! I shall not indulge until Christmas day!
When I showed them off to the carer who came to check on my medicines stock, she thought they were just like a Wagon Wheel. When I put a picture of an unopened lemon Wagon Wheels on my blog a while back, Billum said how they looked like Moon Pies. Thus they sent them to me to try. Bless their cotton socks! ♥
♥ Thanks again, HRH Lisa and Billum! ♥
The door chime rang forth again;
♫ I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee, I’m going to Louisiana, my true love for to see It rained all night the day I left; the weather it was dry The sun so hot I froze to death; Susanna, don’t you cry. Oh, Susanna, don’t you cry for me cos’ I come from Alabama With my banjo on my knee… ♫
The daycarer from the Meridian office was the day carer; she’s come to check that my medical stocks were sufficient for over the holidays. She thought the Moon Pies were like Wagon Wheels… Oh, I’ve already said this, I guess, sorry!
She thinks I’ll need some more Codeines getting in to last me. Which is not surprising, with all the extras I’ve been taking; What with the 15hr agony of the hospital trolley marathon, the bruised bum, then the absolute nightmare of the reaction to the booster-jab, I think I needed, they got me through anyway. I expect someone somewhere to believe I’ve become addicted, however, and another lecture from the Doctor, of course, over the phone.
Another Escapee Pea!
Making a fresh brew, I trod on something rock-hard on the kitchen floor, almost like an electric shock, it made, jump a smidge. It seems lately that these escapee garden peas are coming out of hiding regularly? Haha!
I checked again in the Mazon bamboo sock front situation. And guess what? As you see, this was the message I got from them. Delivered today; your package was left near the front door or porch. Well, it hadn’t been! I got myself into a mini-flap when I wondered if it had been delivered to Winchester Court in error?
So, I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Warden, Desktop Dancer, and who is also not interested in adopting me! Tsk! It’s just not fair! She said it might be downstairs in the lobby; I mentioned Winchester Court, she said the flat is empty. I had a vision of them leaving the stuff outside the door of an empty apartment – if so, it would not last long! Deana said she’d look for me and let me know. I thanked her and returned to the computer in another failed effort.
Hehe! Ferreting around for something to nibble, I came across the packet of new mini-cheddars I’d ordered, but I resisted the temptation. I’ll have them later when I’m more depressed or even hungrier.
The right arm looked betterish, and the pain has subsided a lot now.
Little Inchies fungal lesion had not bled all day. I liked that a lot! But I am in no way being fooled; it’ll come again!
The legs (the Knees) had improved beyond recognition this Monday. I had a job to recognise them as my own. Although, Arthur Itis was getting a little frisky with it when I was writing this.
Warden Deana Saves The Day
Deana rang the door chime and entered – with the parcels of socks in her hand, bless her! They had been left down in the front lobby by the Amazon delivery urchin. Along with several other packages for different people! I thanked her kindly.
Cleaning the teeth broke another tooth, The few teggies left are getting corrosive, But I wash brushing a little aggressive, Shaving, not a single cut or nick, Showered, I almost felt hygienic… On the radio, the London philharmonic, Stubbed my toe; that was chronic… But, I don’t want to nitpick, Even though I tripped over the walking stick!
Food Glorious Food
The dessert was a bit special. On the label, it read; Raspberry Gourmet Greek-style thick & creamy live yoghurt with fruit layer. Confusing innit? Tasted okay. Cooked seasoned sliced Polish pork knuckle with seasonings sarnies, Nigerian podded peas, and crispy chips (oven fries). Flavour rating; 8/10.
Late Phone Call
A call from the opticians came in. Which left me more confused than ever. According to the lady calling me, I did not have an appointment with them. But when I called in there last week on my way to the dentist, I called in to book an appointment, got home and put a date in the calendar, January 4th 2022. She said they had not made an appointment for me?
I’m getting mixed up here; back to the phone call: She asked if I could come in the morning (today at 09:00hrs for an eye test? Presumably, they had had a cancellation?).
Being the keen attentive, alert, sharp sort of person that I’m not, I made another Whoopsiedangleplop; I told her her ‘Yes’ I’d come. Then realised I had the Amazon order coming? Too late to get help ringing her back; the staff had all gone!
Evening Carer Valerie arrived, and I soon fell asleep after she’d gone.
Fed up! Woke up wide awake at midnight and got this blog finished and posted, a little late, but betterer late than never!
I’ll start at the beginning, (Sounds logical to me? – Hehe!) Perhaps I might learn to spell as well… tomorrow…Tsk!
I woke around 03:00hrs and rose gingerly to my feet,
But the knees and legs bothered me most, mate…
Just look at ’em on the left here… What a state!
Still had Arthur Itis giving pain and the flat feet…
Without pains, a life I would think would be incomplete?
The regular fluid retention that usually sinks into the feet seemed now stuck in the top of the legs. My patellas are all knobbly? But I’m not complaining (then anyway).
I began to think through the needs and actions of the potentially hectic mornings requirement. Which, as I noted, were:
Get the ablutions done early, like straight away…
Make sure I do not use the shower as early as this in the morning, so I’ll have a stand-up session at the sink.
Get the teeth done first.
De-coke the nasals.
Saccades eye drops in. (Try to get some of the medication into the eye this time!)
Before shaving, don’t forget to say your little prayer to the Peripheral Neuropathy God. And make sure the aftershave is handy to stop any bleeding.
Do take care medicationalisationing. I can tell already that Little Inchies final lesion has been bleeding cause as soon as I moved, the dried blood cracked as the P.P.’s were adjusted… So be prepared for agony, and brave it out, mate!
Now cometh something that will be as much hassle and pain as anything…
Yes, the sock-glide has to be used for the first time in months! Sorry, but it’s just too cold to go out to the Dentist, barefooted in my shoes this time!
I wish you all the best of luck with carrying out this fearful, scare-making task! But, it’s got to be done!
Things went relatively well as it happened.
As expected. The worst by far was the tender application of the dreaded, feared, always tear bringing…
Tender in the extreme and extra painful cause one has to get to things in the first place… 😢
The Sock-Glide won the ‘Most Hated’, The Most Feared’ awards. But the fungal lesioning retained its status as ‘King of the Excruciating Medicalisationings!’
I was so glad that I got these done and out of the way early on… I even Smug-Moded about it for a while!
I made my first brew of tea, finished off yesterday’s blog, and got it posted off. The Carer came nice and early, so that was nice… her seeing the photo of my legs on the computer screen was a bit harrowing for the gal, though. Hahaha! Me too!
I thanked the girl and offered some nibbles or drinkies in thanks, but she wouldn’t have any. I fang-you! Off she went taking my waste bags to the chute with her.
The computer turned off, and I got down to getting things ready in earnest. Let’s have a think now…
Bus pass to get back home with, yes! Camera, check. Cash card… okay. Keys, Alert bands, Warfarin I.D., yes… Somethings missing, methinks? Aha, shopping list and cash card, Gorrit! By the time I was all ready to go, it was about 08:15hrs as I set out. I got into the lift and down to the ground floor…
Then went back up to the 12th-floor and the flat and got a face mask adorned. Nearly made another cock-up there!
Down and outside, over the road, Accifauxpas, nought!
I turned around, to the view of Winwood Court,
I took a photo of it… well, I thought I aught!
But the gravel hill up into the park made me fraught…
Made it up the hill in one go – but I was heavily breathing,
A dog came from nowhere, barking at me; I was seething!
Nearly ended up mucking my underclothing!
The dog owner arrived, she was chunky, fortysomething…
I fell in love again… the mouth was frothing…
I limped my way through the twitchel no one was about,
I was a little nervy, so I still kept a lookout,
Had a look around as I came out…
That twitchel has an ominous aura, there’s no doubt!.
Down the hill, as far as Elmswood Gardens, then right…
And alongst it. I plodded towards the traffic light…
Mansfield Road road, the spending did start!
Too early for the Dentist, I called into the Wilko store, Laundry booster, Zoflora and Trots tablets… Yes, some more! The tablets were easy to get, four feet from the floor… The booster too high, out of reach, to my displeasure! I ask a lady for help, at her leisure… The Zoflora, bottom shelf, I ended up on the floor! But the ladies laughed and helped me up some more!
Out just in time to get to the Dentist,
They treated me well, although they were pressed…
A new gal training on the reception desk…
I was soon fetched to see the Dentist Oola Bogusz,
As she leant over me, I could sense her firm left bust…
She smiled at me a lot, was I going mad or what?
She and the nurse actually joked with me???
Toothpaste prescription, Something amiss here, just you see!
In no time, I was treated and set free!
I had a funny turn while paying my dues…
Well, I had it when I first joined the queues
These were also patient with me… another ruse?
I have to work this out at home, have a muse…
Why the change? They all usually have a short fuse!
Not many folks about? Most of them had not got facemasks on. Even in the Dentist and Wilko. What’s the matter with them?
Down to the Co-op, to get some cans of their delightful own brand chilli-con-carne… why the tastebuds were salivating at the thought of getting some more cans… But No! The assistant asked the manager for me, and I found that they had stopped stocking this product, Grrr! Gnatwrangles! Damn them! Curses! Flibblegonkackles! Gits! Slobs! Flibblegonkackles! May they go bankrupt! And may whoever it was who decided to stop stocking my beloved cans of Chilli; Get festering, fungal-lesions bursting out slowly all over their body, for at least a full year, before they finally rot away; in absolute agony! Not that it overly bothers me, mind!
Then up to the top of the road to Lloyds Chemist,
Oh, Pharmacy nowadays, sorry, how remiss!
I got the prescription toothpaste from Alice,
Leaving, I trapped my finger in the door…
My Saccades vision is now feeble & poor…
And the left index finger is bloody sore!
I got to the bus stop and met Esther, we had a natter, as she was on her way to the flats to do someones cleaning. Nice to see her. We walked through the link passages together – they can’t touch me for that! Hahaha! (Can they?)
Home Sweet Home!
Well, things didn’t go too bad, well, maybe… erm… either way, I did enjoy the getting out of the flat bit. Although it cost me a lot of dosh, a little blood, frustration and had moments of utter confusion… that’s life, you see… Well, it is for me!
My Route Taken
Yellow on foot – Purple on the bus.
I unloaded the bits of stuff purchased. Of course, there would have been more; had the lousy, stinking, crap-ridden, overcharging, dog-breath, Klunglefrazzled Co-op had some their ‘Honest Value’ Chili-Con Carnie to sell me. But never mind. Shit!
I soon settled into a routine that matched the rest of the day, Drinking spring water, tea and a pee; what a thirst I’d got on me, I may not have been contented, but not depressed, exactly, I started the mammoth task of doing this blog artistically! In between blogging, I even had two callers, socially! A lovely carer to drop off a Christmas card, nice & early.
Even got a phone call from the Doctors surgery, Wanting to arrange a booster shot for me… I explained I’m having it done at the chemist this Saturday, Adding, I’ll see you tomorrow anyway… Why is that? she did say, ‘For medical, the yearly…’ No, you’re not booked in, evidently? I’ll check, hang on, she said wearily… I’ve got it on my calendar, my dearie? Have I got it wrong again? Am I illusory? Nothing on our records, she added hastily… Oh, a free day for me then, that’s satisfactory… Maybe I can have a hassle-free day? Yes, well, I’ll see, you may be hearing again from me?
The feet, after not wearing socks for months, continuous…
Felt okay, but the legs were feeling somewhat lethiferous,
So, I wound up the trouser legs, oh, the fuss…
What a change to earlier ones, more flush,
Still swollen, at the top, but fatter lower down?
Will the fluid flow with a gush?
Will things spurt in a rush?
Will the legs turn to a sodden mush?
Will the world, these limbs discuss?
Will the cause be revealed, as dracunculus?
Look what I found in the middle of the kitchen floor!
A rock hard escapee garden pea, what is more…
The miracle is, how I hadn’t noticed it before?
Has my eyesight, really got that poor?
Am I going potty? I’m not sure…
Camera Out – Balcony Utilised!
To take some snaps of the wonderful view.
The amazing sky, shown in the first two…
In a couple of shots of Chestnut walk, you won’t see any queue,
The place is sparse of people. what can I do?
Are they all inside, eating sausages, fish or making a fondue?
Mayhap some are trying on their Christmas tutu?
Or on holiday in Bulwell, Cardiff or Timbuktu?
Perhaps absent, gone off on a romantic rendezvous?
It’s possible a few could be feeling sozzled or blue?
Out buying food, but the panic buyers are in the queue?
Or in town, with their free bus passes to renew?
I’d speculate more; if only I knew…
Where they have all gone, what are they up to?
Ah, gorrit! Christmas! They’ll be making their homebrew!
Well, I’d better get some food – salad or a stew?
No, vegetarian sausages and root potatoes… that’ll do,
I’ll take a photo of it later, just for you to have a peekaboo!
Vegetarian! Royal grown potatoes, root vegetable mash, tomatoes, Nigerian podded peas, Veggie sausages, cheese and bean pastie, with orange jelly and spray cream for dessert!
Taste Rating: 7.9/10 – Delicious!
Part of ‘The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme’
To all my thousands of fans throughout the world, I wish you all good fortune, fun, festivities, euphoria and future financial prosperity! (To both of you!)
Up and at it blogging,
Feeling much better, astonishing!
Went to do the Glengettie brewing,
Notice outside was suitable for viewing…
With the morning sun encroaching!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
End Car Park was in use, staggering!
End Car Park was in use, staggering!
Leaves falling down from trees overhanging,
Resistance to use this car park is flagging,
Three vehicles today; is this a new beginning?
Oh, where’s my tea… I’m gagging!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Carer Carole Came…
And seconds later, the Sainsbury order came in,
Carole to do tablets, the ulcer machine-gunning,
Confused with so much to do at the same time…
But Carole took charge, with a drink of lime…
So I did, took the sorted tablets in no time…
She put the items of food in the kitchen, all in…
Shot off, she was in a rush, but she still cleared the waste bin!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Suddenly alone again and sulking…
I got the food away, rushing…
Six items short delivered… it’s a sin!
Needed food, I was again burping…
Got a banana and to take off the skin…
Guess what crawled out of it?
A beetle, it was gigantic!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Guess Who Ordered Wrong Milk, then?
My Accifauxpas in ordering online food…
Continues, with such unimpeachability!
I’d ordered the extra-cream full milk, dude!
One can’t beat vascular dementia, well, not me!
I assure you I ordered it accidentally!
I was not too bothered, well, not overly…
Cause the Grahams full cream milk tastes lovely!
The guilt is now fading… Lip smackingly!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Back onto the computer again,
The urge for a biscuit or two came…
As I stood up, Dizzy Dennis attacked the brain…
I ended up on the floor yet again…
My language, I admit, was a little profane…
Then I had to struggle back upright again,
T’would have been comical, if not for the pain!
I knocked off the coat… But that is nongermane,
Stuff fell out of the pockets again!…
Getting down and back up to retrieve things was a strain, I carried on fed-up, biscuitless, now with terrible back pain! I went for a wee-wee and found a bloodstain! In agony now… should I try cocaine?
Part of the Inchcock Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series
A few years ago, before the onset of the awful Coronavirus onslaught and his latest disabilities, Inchcock used to get out and about. To feed his beloved Mallard Ducks at Arno Hill Park Lake. Taking the safe to feed them pellets and seeds, the old fart was in his element. He was even attempting to learn the quacking language from the Mallards! It gave him someone to talk to, not any humans, naturally.
So looking forward to his day out, he rose early to ensure everything was done and readied on time for him to catch the bus. Took a while to find his keys and bus pass. It did not go well…
05:00hrs: He woke and was soon up and getting on, carefully carrying out his essential ablutionalisationings. Really, he should have got the message and not bothered to go out today. Things did not go too well!
One of his top front teeth cracked, cleaning them. The traditional cut shaving, well, three actually. Nasal cleaner bottle dropped and broken. Banged his head on the sink when he dropped a razor as he bent to pick it up. Little Inchies fungal lesion started bleeding in the shower.
A late dizzy spell, and he cracked his shoulder on the shower-power box. Things were not going well!
Medicationalisationing the fungal lesion on Little Inchie was particularly painful and brought a few naughty words from the old chap. When after thinking he’s won, the bleeding started again, he cursed with an unexpected venom! He forgot to turn of the heater in the wet room. Going back in to use the Porcelain Throne later, he realised when thereat hit him as he entered the room – stubbing his toe against the creases, feared sock-Glide-Glenda. Things were not going very well!.
However, being used to these many Whoopsiedangleplops and the more frequent Accifauxpas, he soon felt his old chirpy self again after stopping the bleeding and taking his medications. Then he hoovered the mess up. Not looking very good for today?
He put the computer on to check the times of the buses. But Virgin Media and Liberty-Global top dog Mike Fries had failed yet again.
As Inchcock got everything he hoped together and was moving into the hallway on his way to the door… the wheel fell off of his Walker-guide trolley!
Unfazed, Inchcock retrieved the fallen wheel, and as he picked it up, it somehow morphed into about ten or twelve pieces, then fell on the newly hoovered carpet! Now he was fazed!
He’d missed the bus, of course. Spent the hour swearing, cursing and picking up the bits from the wheel. But it takes a lot to completely destroy Inchcocks spirit. He decided to walk without the guide (having no choice if he was to visit and gossip with his mallards). He set off, full of renewed anticipation for an enjoyable trip on the L9 bus and getting some pleasure from mother nature and the mallard ducks.
A note on the bus stop pole pointed out that service will not be operating today due to roadworks. Back to normal tomorrow. Not a good start this!
Inchie dropped back down into a sort of semi-moroseness, tinged with a high degree of pissed-offeredness! The clot thought perhaps he could go to the Nottingham canal to feed the birds, like the previous week? Then it clicked in; the fool would still not have a bus to use to get there either! What an absolute moron! Things were getting to him, now – Not good!
A Dizzy Dennis visited while he was pondering what to do – followed by a worryingly strong ‘Mind-Fog’, and he sat down on the bus shelter and went into a few minutes of daydreaming mode.
Finally, making up his mind. He’ll climb up the steep gravel footpath into the Woodthorpe Grange Park and have a search to see if he can see any of the wild ducks and hens that frequent it. Mayhaps he thought, I can visit the garden centre as well. Cheered a smidge now, he set off up the hill and began to peruse the woods and paths. But no signs of any wold life, the wasn’t many humans either, but that didn’t bother him.
He legged it down the avenue to the Garden Centre and Tropical Plant House. It was closed! This was not a good day for the old codger, and an iota of self-pity was brewing!
He hobbled around painfully as Arthur Itis kicked off in both knees. Resolutely searching for the wildlife birds. Of course, he had no luck, well, no good luck! Now lousy luck… that was in good supply, and about to get crueller, too!
His Nokia 100 virtually antique mobile phone burst into life, and he dropped it as he fumbled to get at it before it stopped ringing. He didn’t! He fell as he bent to pick it up, fortunately landing in some unstinging nettle bushes, which also cushioned the belly flop fall, right on the epigastrium coeliac plexus (I looked that up to sound clever, Hehe!) which started off Reflux Roger along with Arthur Itis. He had to crawl on all-fours to get to a tree stump, to haul his overweight, blubbery, lardaceous, wobbly-bellied body, back up onto its feet. Cutting his shins as he progressed. It was now a worserer day than ever for the pitiful old goat!
Now, almost a physical and mental wreck, he decided to make for home. Thinking he’d take a shortcut via Winchester Street, as all the aged-whimp wanted, was to get back to the flat, take some painkillers, use the Porcelain Throne, clean up his injuries, and make a good strong brew of Glengettie tea, with dunked shortcake biscuits!
Hahaha! Of course, his plans were stymied; they always are!
The road was blocked off – he might have worked it out earlier when he read the cancelled bus notice, but there you are. To make things worse, it started to rain, and his brolly was still in his broken-wheeled walker-guide trolley back in the flat! Thick as a plank, Inchie!
He did resist crying, but only just. After taking a marathon walk around the park again, he arrived at the lobby doors, wet, in pain, miserable, bloodied, and totally discouraged with life! He’d fought his way through the woods, bushes, rain, the end car park and back to the flats. Showing worrying signs of losing it… Jabbering on to himself and having a distinct twitch in his right eye now… not to mention his trousers being so wet and heavy, his braces were not holding them up far enough.
Once Inchie got inside the dry and warm lobby, the lad immediately began to cheer up a little! History should have told him not to bother!
Residents had gathered in the lift lobby – in vain hopes of one of them working. This just shows not only the stupidity but the banality and hopelessness of Inchcock’s everyday existence! Of course, with the day has been going so wrong, he should have known better than to allow thoughts of semi-contentment and hopes to rise.
Yet astoundingly, the dripping wet, frustrated, injured Inchie wasted no time in legging it limpingly, painfully slowly, up the 24 flights of concert stairs, towards his flat. (Desperate measures call for desperate actions!) He was urgently in need of the Porcelain Throne!
At the flat door, he fumbled about, still dripping wet; he gained access and almost bounced off of the walls in his rush to the Porcelain Throne. Whipped off his wet trousers and protection pants and plonked himself down on the pan… the evacuation began immediately, and it was all over within about a minute. Inchy just sat there, breathing a sigh of relief. Which was tempered by the cleaning up and medicating that needed doing next.
The wet (possibly 85% rainwater – 14% wee-wee, and 1% blood?) PP’s first, they had to be rung out, packed up in plastic bags to later go to the waste chute.
Unbeknownst to Inchcock, Little Inchies fungal lesion had burst open in the tumble he presumes. So that was medicated straight away. The neighbours always know when the Betamethasone cream is applied to the fungal lesion, the loud Argh, and Bloody hells give it away. Inchies day is just not getting any better, is it?
New PPs on, Piles of clothes into the laundry box. Rubbish bags were taken away.
He found a letter that had been delivered when he returned from taking the waste bags to the chute. It was confirmation from the Council that I am not going to get any attendance allowance. This really rubbed it in for Inchie – Hence his day continued in its ‘Let’s Annoy Inchcock Mode!
Too weary for making and eating any food, Inchie got down in his £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus.
He was still waiting for sleep or at least rest of some sort, about two hours later.
Some thunderclap music from the yobboes on Woodthorpe Park having a party started up. Heavy Metal brand, Inchie thinks.
So he got up and went on the computer to start tomorrows blog off…
I had rather hoped that the last few days, nonsensical mishaps, clangers, errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and the accompanying misery they brought; would be bound to lessen, and albeit an imitation joy would return to the Nottingham Lad. Peace would burst out, and joy would reign…
But, No! Although the morning started well, yes, really. Within minutes of waking up, the wee-weeing were on the move again, and that gave me confidence… well, the hope, that the Doctors Visit would go well, and bladder-bother-wise, there would be no embarrassing moments. The bit I was getting a smidgeon excited about was getting out and taking some photos on my hobble to the surgery. It’s been so long since I saw, I mean walked outside the flats.
My main concerns were forgetting to take the camera and not leaving anything on that should not be in the apartment. Cockily…
I thought it would be wise to get the camera into the coat pocket now, along with the bus pass for the return journey as soon as I got my ever-increasing in volume flabby flobby stomached body, from the c1968, £300, second-hand, c1968, horrendously grungy coloured, eyesore of a haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.
Whistling to myself! Yes, I was feeling a little cocky!
I took a snap of the tootsies; they were not looking too bad at all this morning.
Rose up, caught my balance, and responded to the demand from Bladder-Boris, and took a wee-wee, a pain-free one too!. Things had started well!
Took the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), emptied, cleaned and sanitised it, then went to the kitchenette and got some potatoes in the slow cooker. While the kettle was heating up, I took a snap of the view… the sky had an odd hue to it?
Made a mug of Glenettie, and started on updating yesterday’s blog for an hour or two, then went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and got involved in washing the thick jumper in the sink.
Got it washed, rinsed, wrung and hung above the sink to drip dry.
The brain engaged, and I remembered to put the camera into the jacket pocket. I even remembered that I had to wear clothes that gave the nurse easy access to my arm… Yes, the letter from the surgery told me to! Humph! Anyway, my being nervous about intimidating Fog-Horn Nurse, I worked out how to oblige. When I get the ablutions done, I’ll wear my sleeveless jacket next to the skin and a thick cardigan over it, so I can easily give the Obergrüppenfureress nurse no delay. Not that I’m scared of her or anything like that… but I am. Hehe!
The Carer arrived a little late, not that it mattered, I have time to get everyone done for going out, the appointment isn’t until midday. It was Carer Richard who came; I was his last call. He’s been called in. Another carer didn’t turn up.
This suited me down to the ground cause being the final call, he had time for a natter with me. Mostly mutual moans over the NHS and Doctors in particular, with some fantastic tales Richard related. I thought at first that our laughing might disturb Herbert in the flat above… which made me even happier at the thought of the noisy, arrogant, taciturn, aloof Herbert being disturbed by my noise for once. Not that I have anything against the antisocial, evasive, uncongenial, phlegmatic, pococurante, gentleman, of course. (I lie well sometimes!)
After Richard left, taking some bags to the chute for me on his way, I got the blog updating finished, then did a little Facebooking. Time to get the ablutions done. Long gone are when I would make sure I’d got half-an-hour to get the ablutions done; it’s an hour nowadays needed. Everything went tremendously smoothly… well, all bar the shaving bit. I’m still confused over this hair-raising anomaly… Hehe!
How come the hair still grows behind my earholes and nowhere else? Hehehe!
I took the Canon camera from the coat pocket to record this little Accifauxpa, then rushed it back to the jacket, and I finished showering and medicationing. Got on the planned attire… Which must have made me look bloody awful. A well-stretched woolly jumper, with a multi-pocketed jacket and no shirt on underneath, which left part of my chest open to the elements, lumpy… but it was warm for me, once I got outside and on my journey. Which you will read, was delayed…
I got the bags checked, nibbles for the Doctors surgery staff, and Deana & Julie, off I went down in an elevator.
THE ELEVATOR SCARE!
It genuinely frit me when I got in the cage with the trolley, and the lift began to move, and loud creaking noises could be heard! And when the brake was applied at the ground floor, a screeching was heard! I thought maybe it was because I had the hearing aids in and new batteries? I was going to call on Deana’s office and would mention it to her. I hobbled through the link passage and through to the office – but no one was in! Natalie from the Care Team came in, and we had a minute chinwagging, and I forgot all about the lift! Hey-ho!
As I reached the end of the road, to turn right down Winchester Street, so many photographicalisationing opportunities were on view. The new flats being built, cars parked right up on the pavement that I had to walk on the road to pass. The git in a BMW who papped at me… all were begging to be photographed… But No! Who had put the wrong multi-pocketed jacket on, with the camera now in the other jacket pocket? With the cash! Yes, it’s not a tricky question, is it! And I wanted to do some shopping at Lidl and Wilko as well. I calmly spat, swore venomously, stubbed my toe on the trolley wheel, spat and cursed again, and just carried on – hoping I could remember the pin number if I ever got to a shop. I may have cried a little too?
I’ll try to make the rest of the journey in Ode, but it might not be terrific…
Further down the street, I got almost angry, Double glazers blocked the footpath again! I felt bitter and almost insurrectionary, Back into the road to pass, and then… Another pap-pap from a driver, an obscenity! I felt like going and having tea in the kitchen, Where the hell’s the local Constabulary?
Down and onto Mansfield Road I did turn, A bloke on a mobility scooter gave me a gurn, Looked like he’s just left a pub or tavern! Manners and respect he never learned?
Up towards Carrington, having lost my earlier swank, I’d forgotten the tenners to swap at the bank! An Escooter from behind with a clank, My hopes and respect for humanity sank
Top of the hill, I was tired and feeling a bit queer, The back was hurting, Anne Gyna too, oh, dear! After a few minutes, I felt a little chirpier, On to the surgery, my walking getting wonkier… Ten minutes to go, not admitted any earlier, Did a puzzle, thoughts of the nurse were scarier…
Got in to see the nurse, things got zanier, She sounded as if she was a little friendlier, “You’ve not bared your arm like we told yer! She tore at the jumper, she felt uneasier, When the bare flesh of my arm teased her! Her bullying attitude got weaker… But I was unhappier, a proved wrong nurse… There is nothing much worse… Embarrassed, I resisted a curse… Turning to leave, I ricked Back Pain Brenda! Although it hurt and was very tender… I got out without any more verbals; things got rosier! Off to the Lidl store, I did scamper!
Once in the store, I was happier here… Food all around me cost no barrier… Escaping the nurse, was summat to revere, Food shopping, something I hold dear! With the Carers costs, I should be austere? But its food, I gave a silent chanticleer!
Although eating can make me podgier, please, They had in stock of tomatoes, and garden peas, I got yoghourt, and other things with these, But I resisted getting any more Derby cheese… Strong cheddar and apples together, please!
I caught a 57 bus to Sherwood, and I rather sillily and expensively went into the Wiko store. They had got some 500ml Zoflora Lemon Zing disinfectant back in stock – Well, that did it! I got three bottles, I’m afraid they were £4 each, Ahem!
It is the only disinfectant strong enough for me to use in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I also use it in the event of any Accifauxpas with the bladder or bowel movements. Really worth the extra. If I do have any leaks, the PPs Protection Pants can help, but on the odd occasion, splashes when wee-weeing have been known to spray back and over the carpet or floor. Again this product comes into its own. I leave any clothes soaking in Zoflora and washing soda, or even Citric Acid capsules if I have any in stock, overnight usually, before washing them. A little tip there. Haha!
I got the things bought put away. The Lidl smoked ham off-cuts were far superior to those I had to throw away from the Co-op: they were almost just pork crumbs. And they only had a one-day eat-before date on them. Their beef pasties only had two days of life! I intend to eat those tonight; that was the plan. But I’ve spent so long doing this blog update, it is already gone 01:30hrs! Harrumph!
The Carer came late again, Carole, no not Carole, I’ve forgotten her name now. Tsk! She was not talkative, although it was her last visit. She was so tired but sociable enough without actually proper talking if that makes sense. Still, a can of Gin later, and she was a bit cheerier, bless her. ♥
Then, I noticed a chap or woman down in the end car park area. To all intents and purposes, it looked like he/she had taken a body out of the back of the vehicle. And was hitting it with a stick. I hope not!
Ah, well, must get summat to eat and my head down.
01:20hrs: Blimus! I stirred back into imitation misery and life, and I realised I’d just had over five-hours in the nurturing arms of Sweet Morpheus! Gadzooks! Plus, I had a short nodding-off yesterday afternoon. Involuntarily, though! The need for a wee-wee developed, so I was out of the recliner and standing with my balance caught in no time?
I wandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). And worra shock, it was a wee-wee of the LPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent) type, and with no PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling.
Things seem to have altered in the wee-wee stakes suddenly? The NHS colour chart was consulted, and I was dehydrated again, but down to level four! Yippy! But the wee-weeing carried on all morning, repeatedly, and in the same mode. I got a little irritated at times with demanding needs, but the urge for a wee-wee cometh so often, and I have to goeth! Haha!
Then I got the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrive, so off I limped to the wet room. A pungent, Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation that needed a lot of cleaning up afterwards again. Of me and the Porcelain!
As you can see by the time on the travel clock om the cistern top, I’d only been up for about ten minutes, three wee-wees already.
Then, as I was asking, I needed yet another leak! Gotten Himmel!
To the front room, and I got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing, with the Boot’s BP machine. SYS 148. DIA 81 and PULSE showing as 83bpm. Which is better than many days have been the March up to now. Not too bad at all!
The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer preferred a reading of 36.9°c – 96.9°f. Perhaps a smidge high, but maybe not. I asked Mr Google and got this answer: 97°F (36.1°C) to 99°F (37.2°C).
I updated the Excel NHS record log with the details. Looking much improved on a week ago. This is the third day that I’ve got access to Excel, and there was no Updating unavailable message coming on the screen.
I wonder if Microsoft’s owner is related to Mike Fries, the man who bought Virgin Media and renamed it as Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and then proceeded to dismantle any semblance of trust, ability or compassion that was left in the business?
You certainly have to admire his skill in running the crap internet service and spending a fortune on advertising lies about it being reliable, don’t you? Fair enough, he perhaps has no idea what he’s doing. But being educated in a Wesleyan Business School and now paid a $19m salary, plus expenses and compensation totalling: Fries’ cash compensation of $8.5 million, was not the highest on the list. Fries’ stocks and options awards — valued at $79.2 million in stock and $24.2 million in options — helped lift Fries to the top salary-wise. Fries also received a $5 million sign-on bonus…
So, it’s no surprise that with the crappiest service and a cunning system installed that blocks anyone from leaving their contract – have you ever heard of anyone who left them? It’s no wonder the overpaid, under-capable git who only makes any profit for Liberty-Gold on paper! And installs hatred in his customers for the intermittent failure of connection of the internet and his contempt shown for them. However, fair does; all the other suppliers are bad as well. I did manage to leave BT when I moved into the flats here, to Virgin, who were then bought out by Liberty-Global – My bad luck! I waffled a bit there, sorry!
I got the Tuesday blog updated, between wee-wees (they were getting longer and more fierce now!) And within four hours I’d got it finished. Flibbledonkackles! Pinterested some snaps, went on the WordPress Reader, not much on again today, but what was sent, was top quality. I read and replied to some comments, then did a couple of graphics on CorelDraw. Made a brew, had a wee-wee and was just about to start on this Diary, and I realised I had not done the ablutions yet.
Gulped down the tea, and off to the wet room. A decent session to start with, the usual dropsies, of course. Only two nicks. tiny ones, shaving, and the ankle and feet were looking fine as I got ready to go in the shower. The long toenails were a bit bothersome.
I really enjoyed the showering today and spent ages in there with the cloth and loofah. I used the mint & cucumber shower gel but was not too keen on the scent. Just as well that I dropped the bottle in lost it all down the drain when it shattered! Hehe!
Dried off, and did the medicationing without any hassle. No socks put on, I’m sure I heard a groan from Sock-Glide-Glenda (Hahaha!)
Got the kettle on, and back to the computer and rebooted it.
The landline rang. It was Sister Jane, telling me she hadn’t received the Inchcock Today diary link? I was sure I’d sent it – I mean; as if a man of my calibre and dedication would forget to! Huh! Ahem! I thanked her for worrying and I checked the Emails…
What a nitwit, dumbhead, pillock, schmuck, numskull, cretin, schlemiel, flibbertigibbet, dope and senile twit, I am! I rang Jane back to tell her I’d now sent it… I believe my red-face may have somehow seeped through the telephone cable. She was very very calm with me. Hahaha! Lovely of her to check on me though wasn’t it. ♥
Thought! I was born years too early yer know. If mankind survives a few more years, I can see people, not the commoners, mind, getting a memory transplant on the NHS… not that’s doomed innit? You’ll probably be able to get a decent second-hand one. Possibly, around the year 2065, you can get a taxi-drivers memory box, who died of Covid-1219, reconditioned and fitted for about £2.500m in a few years of paying back for Brexit? Hehe!
My mind wandered on to my epicurean-gastronomical fancies. (Food!) So much fodder to feed on at the moment. I dithered, dillied and dallied, changed my mind a good few times… Went for a wee-wee, washed and returned, and started musing over the available foods in the fridge, and there were many to pick from, all I had to do, was decide which one to have… Mmm!
Decisiveness, emphaticalness and obdurateness used to be my strong points in the old days when I was alive, you know. Not now, though! So many different permutations of the meal to make, came to mind; then left it, pretty blank as well! Humph!
Ah. I’ve just remembered, the writing pads should be arriving today, from Amazon. Of course, I only said that for effect, as if I would forget anything, Hahahahaha! Ahem! I reckon my guess is going to be a long way off! I’ll no made anything to eat until delivery has arrived, whenever that is. I tried to ignore the hunger. Oh, I am good… what for, is another question!
I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana and took the evening medications.
The landline rang out, it was a recorded message, obviously a con-job, telling me that Amazon Prime will be taking £79 from my account, and if I wanted to cancel, I had to ring this number… I rang off. Maybe another Nigerian scam? I opened the YourArea Emagazine for Sherwood, I must do something to avoid falling asleep and miss the Amazon package.
A bit of good news on the Covid-19 front! The figures for new cases in Nottingham are down by 22.5% on the previous seven day period!
Blow me, the next article telling of a school in the Sherwood area, where six children and thee members of staff have tested positive!.
Good heavens, what next will I come across?
Now new variants of Covid from the Pillillines have been found in Nottingham!
I made a brew of Glengettie, then I took the afternoon medications.
Checked the Amazon tracker, it was in the same place on the graph. Oh dearie me! But never mind, eh?
So tired now, done in mentally not physically… yet. Hehehe!
My ETA guesses at the arrival for the notepad order from Amazon, (16:00hrs) is fast approaching.
I got some mini-Dagwood sarnies made up, in the bowl covered it with foil, but there was no room for it to go in the fridge until the parcel arrives. I didn’t work or think that out, did I? Had a look at the tracker on Amazon. New ETA on it now.
I’m so tired and so hungry. Must stay awake! Aha, the delivery arrived at 17:50hrs.
Got the nosh sorted.
No idea what I’m doing now (Thurday morning) WorPredd have changed things around, and I’m f’ing lost! Sod this!
Can’t edit photos as before, edit and view modes different – Blocks appearing
Ho do I add… never mind, this is my last diary – Thank You WordPress! I’ll try once again, but I’m terribly confused Too much to take in, so I leaving.