Inchcock Today: Tuesday 22nd November 2022

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01:25hrs: Porcelain Throne, a wash, a second Throne visit, got the waste bags sorted out. A couple of wee-wees while I was making a brew of Glengettie.
Got the Monday blog tackled and did it all the way through (although I anticipate a number of errors and mistakes).
Back to the Porcelain Throne again. They were all of a sloppy Trotsky Terence variety and not a lot of it.
As I was getting the Health Checks done and making the graph… and I am sure that this would amaze and stun you… But the internet went down!

Difficult to apprehend, I know. A man earning now, $26.8 million a year, plus bonus and shares, who buys Virgin Media from Mr Branson for so many billion. 24 billion, I think it was
And can’t even get a service to Nottingham that is even slightly like a reliable service?
You have to admire the number-crunching Smoke and Mirrors money manipulator.

Of course, it’ll be mainly jealousy at how much he is earning. And can’t do the job right… innit?
Also, he must be a cunningly lucky man. He’ll know the few bosses of Liberty-Global above him, and no doubt fear of his spilling the beans on them ensures that Fries keeps his job? That and the back-handers they must be giving to the financial regulators. Just thought I’d mention it. 

I thought the wee-weeing was bad now, but little did I know what was waiting for me overnight!

I got my head down and tried to relax and recuperate.
But five hours later, Mr Fries, Liberty-Global, Virgin Media had not returned Internet was not on again.

Slept and woke for an hour, with no interest, and a totally confused brain caused me much misery. At 08:00hrs, Carer Shekiel came. Nice lad, we had a natter, treats in thanks, and he took the waste bags with him.

Noisy neighbour Herbert kicked off with his concerts of noise. At least they were different this time. The usual tap tappings, intermingled with the odd cappella serenade from his drilling tones.

I reluctantly started to fo the Health Checks again
Not so good today, back up in the Hypertension-3 Red Zone. The SIA bringing a rather high figure. A shame about that.

Although I did this okayish, my tiredness and weariness returned. And my concentration was all over the place. I turned off the computer and sat down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner.
All a part of the mysterious nature of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock; to curse with bad luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!.

My mind was all over the place. I was hoping that ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, Or ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist and Warden Julie would find the time to get me some help on the ultra confusing instruction from the Mental Status Hospital. Even the address is confusing me.
Hazelwood House, ‘The Coppice’, Highbury Hospital, Bulwell, Nottingham.

I spent the rest of the day in the recliner; in fact, I spent 12 hours in the chair. The wee-wees slowly increased in frequency and got more and more painful, with less flowing each time!
As I said, no sleep again whatsoever.
I felt cold all night, a feeling that someone kept walking over my grave.
I made an ode in the morning for the Wednesday blog about this.

At 01:25hrs, I must have had 80 wee-wees! The total passed, would not have finked a tea mug! I started using the WC after this, hoping that it may encourage the rate of flow. It didn’t

Then I suddenly felt the cold more. I took off the jammies and put the dressing gown in the laundry bag. Then bot a thick bobble hat on my head, got a jumper on my torso, and a jacket on top of them. and a thicker pair of trousers on, and some socks… Boy, was that painful!

The rest, indeed even some of this, indeed repeated, I think, on Wednesday’s blog.

The Worst Night Ever!

Descriptive Ode Coming Tomorrow!

Monday 3rd October 2022

POLITICAL CARTOON

Mikhail Gorbachev died at the age of 91

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04:45hrs: I returned to the land of the limitation living. At the same instant, I required the attention of the . So did the balance exercises (that sounds so good, dunnit? Ha-Ha! They take about 30 seconds. Caught my balance, put the slippers on, grabbed Metal-Mickey, and started to go to the wet room? Blimey, the toes were tender this morning!

The evacuation was as soft as grease. No bleeding, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not stinging too much. I decided, as I often do on a morning when the Throne is needed so early, to get the ablutions done.
And the went exceptionally well, so much so that a . One cut shaving… did you read that? Grrreat!
Only the situation was of any real hurt. Mind you, I do have two of them, Humph! The fear is that will join in later on. She’s been a right nuisance these last three days.

I got Carer Richards bit on the server top; I just got the stuff from the fridge added to them later. Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and got the computer on. I was updating the Sunday blog but got another summoning to the Off to the wet room, carefully. I must avoid any stubbed toes now the ingrowing nails have started. What a difference this session! It was only 45 minutes ago when I last sat on the Throne. But this time, the evacuation was reluctant. And it needed much forceful input on my behalf to get it started. Once the bomb started escaping, it gathered great speed, hitting the water, splashing some water up my bum! As I stood to inspect the results, Hehehe! The main thing on my concentration was the pain from the toes – which soon changed. Temporary Boy had it bled! I was concerned about where the blood came from. An inspection, a blind one of course, of the rear end using the kitchen towels, and it soon became apparent that it was , but not the usual deep red, so I assumed it was the internal ones that copped for the tearing treatment? Certainly set off the stinging again.
Washing myself afterwards and , the absence for the best part of a day, kicked off. That was when I realised that Harold’s externals were torn as well… Either that or I cut them when I started performing, Which raised an interesting question; Why can’t I wipe my bottom with the left hand? I’m a lefty at writing? Just a thought, like. Finished up and went back to the computer.

The snotty neighbour from above started his banging, and I replied each time with a bang back on the top of the high bookcase. Childish, I know.

Oh, I forgot to put the photos of the early morning view on the blog. So, here they are.

How does the saying go? Red sky in the morning, Shepherds Warning – Red Sky at night, Shepherds Delight.

Arrived, and he was making out things were not too bad when I inquired if his status. But the lad was coughing, sneezing and yawning an awful lot this morning. He’s got an extra call to make.
Hehe!. I told of Fridays happening in the wind and rain, the Vampire foot girl cutting two of my ingrowing nailed toes, etc. But I gave him the short version, or I might have lost him as he fell asleep.

He left his treats until the next day. Took the three bags of waste to the chute and then returned to say a fond farewell to me. Bless him; he looked all done in.

I got the started.
The figures returned were similar to yesterday.
The body temperature was climbing again.
SYS 168, DIA 77. Pulse was still pretty high at 89.

I made an addition to the Blood Pressure Chart. I put a caricature of me using with a paintbrush on it.
Just for fun!
Another day all in the Red Zone.
This time back up to Hypertension Red – 2.
It’s not looking good.
When I went to the doctor in error last week, I mentioned this High Blood Pressure to Doctor Vindla.
She didn’t answer, speak or acknowledge that I was there.
At least she’s consistent nowadays. Tsk!
I was going to mention Doreen Dementias’ part in my life.
But what was the point?
Then I finally got the blog sent off to WordPress. Made a start proper on this blog and; started on me again. Just as I feared she may. With Anne Gyna, and then when I stand or move bothersome ingrowing toenails, I don’t think I could handle anymore at the same time.
This is bad.

At about 15:00hrs, an alarm went off, but only for a few seconds. It sounded to my ears as if it was in this room. But if it was the fire alarm for the flat, I’d have heard that, alright.

  And her stabbing pains are getting more severe all the time. I’ll see how it goes but I may dial 111 if she doesn’t ease up soon. I took a Codeine; that might help… or burst the duodenal ulcer. Fed up? Me? Hehehe.

Oh, Testicles! I took some formatted frame text from CorelDraw to the blog – and lost everything when CorelDraw crashed.
My language was sickening; I was so angry with myself!!! Grumbling, sulking, cursing… Grrr!
It took me over an hour to get it back on track. Then another two hours to get the photographs I prepped for the blog back on from the SD again. Then I start to doctoring them again. and !

What felt like a week later, I got caught up. As if to spoil my pleasure, started again, but at least she gave me a small break… or the CorelDraw disaster may have taken my mind off of her? Then:

So, I’m going to get something to eat, the evening carer will be here in a while. I got some chestnut mushroom on the boil. Added liquid smoke and salt and simmered them for ages. Then got the sausages in the oven.

Lastly, as the other stuff I hoped would be about ready, I heated some Ben’s Korean Style BBQ flavoured rice in the microwave.
This is the first (And Last!) time I’d this flavour. I got the bowl filled with what I thought looked like an appetising meal.
But, Oh, No!
Every single part of the meal tasted so strange, and a flavour rating of 1.5/10 was given after trying to eat it.
The Korean Rice was far too strong for my palette. The mushrooms tasted, I imagine, like leather! The sausages, well, they tasted nothing like the ones out of the same bag that I ate last week? Horrible is the word.
I couldn’t even eat the lemon cheesecake, one spoonful, and I felt sick! I must ask Richard to check the dates in the fridge for me, but he’s so busy.

I dished the more significant part of the meal into a food bag, a freezer bag, and a waste bag. While sealing it all up, I had a mammoth, chest-wrenching sneeze! And since then, has been in attendance! Still with me in the morning as I type this up!

Jodie arrived. Soon got the meds sorted, and I asked her to take my socks off for me, please. Got a raised eyebrow response, but she did remove them, bless her cotton socks. Chose nibbles and a drink in appreciation, taking the black bag with her to the chute as she left.

I took two photos of the view from the kitchenette window in different camera modes/settings.

They seemed to turn out pretty much the same in appearance?

The frames were different shapes.

I got settled in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.
The tummy rumbled, and I had to rise to have a wee-wee.
Back into the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner. And blow me, needed another wee-wee. Up again and over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket).
Back yer again into the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner. Mastered it this time. I was asleep in minutes… Bliss!

Inchcock Saturday 6th Aug 2020: Diary

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05:00hrs: I woke, feeling drained before I’d even moved. Checked the time and went through a Thought-Storming session for ages. Jumping from one subject to another, fretting, fearing, blaming and self-condemning. There were decisions, plans, and ideas; the thoughts cleared, amazingly, and I dropped off back into sleep…
This was the same as yesterday! Each and every one of the following wee-wees had after-leakage that, at times, was more than the original wee was! 06:05hrs: I stirred again, in need of a wee-wee.
I hope I will not need to see Dr Nallamothu, Urinary Tract Infections, again. I recall how unlistening and snotty she was with me on my last visit. This is why I’m hanging on, hoping this infection will clear on its own. The NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) was filled within four trips, well, not filled, but it had too much in it to use it safely. I’m getting experienced in emptying and sanitising things nowadays. I wonder if the NHS just might have a job for a qualified Guzunder emptier at the hospital? Hehe!

This Canon photograph is of the morning’s great sky.
They used to stay, ‘Red Sky in the morning, Shepherd’s Warning’. Of rain… but there is nothing on the weather forecast about rain. According to the local news, the reservoirs have been at the lowest since records began. This is not good! Which we could do well with having.

Time to let the sphygmomanometerisationing flow. So I did. The body temperature at 34.1°f was pleasing again. Much better than last month.
The Blood Pressure readings, I thought, were excellent. But not the NHS recording site?
The attachment today was as written beneath the picture on the left here.
Which surprised me. The ‘it should be below 120/80 was a bit hopeful. I’ve never had a reading as low as SYS 120 in donkey’s years. This one was in the amber, as well?

Off to the Throne room, taking the crossword book with me, as I anticipated another session like yesterday morning, of solid resistance. But Constipation Konrad had lost control of the innards to Trotsky Terence now? How can things change in such a short time?

I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana and raided the packet of pod peas for a nibble.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed loudly from the doorbell. It was Samantha. Got the medications sorted, listened to my waffling, picked her thank-you treats and was off like a shot. Taking the waste bag with her to the rubbish chute on her way for me.

At long last, I made a start on updating the Friday blog. Not a lot to do on it, but finding so many mistakes and correcting them, took me at least two hours. Humph!

Both kicked off together as I moved on to get this template started. This put a temporary end to the keyboard activity.

I decided to get the ablutions done while incapacitated from typing. Miss was a mistake! Of course, I know this now! As I approached the door, just for devilment, I’m sure, but an involuntary kicked off, and I felt myself going backwards… But I knew the door behind me was pulled to; I always close it behind me, you see, then in the event of a fall or tumble, I can slide down the softer than the floor door! Clever stuff, eh?

But, unbeknownst to me, the door was wide open, and I ended up flat on my back, clouting the back of my head a decent wallop on the way down! So much for making plans!
I got back into the main room on my hands and knees; that wasn’t easy with SSS shaking me about. I used the c1968 recliner to get myself back up on my feet. I was a little shook up but by no means incapacitated or proper poorly.
Found a couple of minor scratches on my arm, the back and head aching, but not severely. SSS gave me rest; at last, Anne Gyna was still stabbing across my chest, which was the worst of the ailments and injuries. Hehehe! I think my feeling a fool was embarrassing too.

I sat for a while to recover, a bit of shock, knowing you would hit the door and don’t, but instead, the floor! Thinking it through, I reckon Esther had left the door open when showing the lady who’s covering for her holiday where things were. No blame whatsoever; it’s my fault for not noticing the door was open… Ah, I’ll settle for blaming Cataract Cathy, then! Hehe! Oh, Back-Pain-Brenda has started now! It could have been a lot worse; I think they would call this ‘Good-Luck?’

Sister Jane rang, and we had a good long natter and gossip.

She’s struggling with her Doctor as well, and her eyes have not been looked at again yet.

Gave me a concert of clattering, but it was a small one. It could have been the 1812 overture! Hahaha!

I will get my feet up to eat the meal and hopefully fall asleep. Well, I hope so, at least. Got the potatoes in the oven and chilli in the pan.

Not very good; I got the subjects cut off. Still shaking a bit from the tumble.
I may take an extra Codeine to help counter Back-Pain-Brenda. Even so, I’ve got away lightly in that Accifauxpa!.
I got an email from Sainsbury’s. So it looks like the code through the post was genuine… at least I hope it was.

Took the Codeine, so I take it while eating, which might be more effective.
Sliced p[otatoes and veg-chilli out of a can this time. But still tasty; in fact, the chilli was a little hot for my tastes, but the more I ate of it, the less hot it seemed to get? Flavour rating: 6.5/10.
Arrived, she was chirpier this evening. Hard to fear what she was saying cause she has a habit, like Esther, of talking to me and facing in the opposite direction. But Val does not do it from another room. Hehe!
I got on the computer, and although hard work, mistakes, and correcting-ridden, I pressed on with this blog.

I went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the sunset was worth photographing.
I got the meal on my knee on the tray, then put the TV on, not that there was anything worth watching. I’ve got about 150 channels on complimentary view and not a sausage worth viewing that I could find. Noticed the lighting had changed as it came through the thin moth-eaten curtains! And went back to the kitchen window to take another shot, the bottom one of the two. Bootiful!. I think there were only ten minutes between the snaps being taken.
Then I got the blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Gone midnight now! No rest for the wicked! But I want to make a start on the following Snippets blog…

Inchcock Today: Diary & Ode, Sunday 22nd May 2022

Ah, the future of mankind, or an individual punter…
I’m not bothered about myself neverthemore…
My only claim for fame is being an ambidexter!
What prospects are there for the uneducated poor?
They can’t get a job as lamplighter…
They’ve even closed HMP Dartmoor?
Today’s youth will become even boozier,

Price rises will stir more violence and rancour,
The future for proletariat ankle snappers is unsure,
Innocents will be scared to leave their own front door,
Putin, of course, can make a life but a blur…
The Government’ll be worried about expenditure…
It won’t matter if you’re an unclever, underachiever,
In the shelter under No.10, they can still party and decanter?

Hospitals, police gone, what the hell can the poor sods do?
How many have died could be Boris’s main issue…
But it won’t be, I can assure you,
The Stock Market they’ll review,
Sell, sell, sell, or whatever they do…
Claiming insurance on MPs destroyed homes, too…
Scared stiff MPs… what will the stock market do?

Weapon selling will get very little revenue…
Gunrunners flooded the market; it’s all ambrew!
In nuclear fall-out, we’ll all be sodden through,
Fear not of no toilet paper; worry about no loo!
In need of help? There’ll be no one to go to…
But no need to fret; I’m not trying to scare you…
Bur, what if there is no nuclear pas-de-deux?
Oh… I’ve just got a papercut in my pirclicue…

If Putin takes war off of the Moscow maniac’s to-do list…
The proletariats could go back to getting pissed…
Cause it’d be better not to die and go see a traumatologist,
Train for a job in music? What about as a bassoonist?
Or join a drug gang, and you could become the rowdiest?
If you get caught, tell the Police all, get it off yer chest!
Best spend drug money made on a barrister, honest!

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Sunday, 22nd May 2022

05:454hrs: I woke up and passed the wind. Then I thought about having a wee-wee, but the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived suddenly. I had to gather my thoughts on getting out of the recliner and getting the balance exercises done in time to get to the wet room.

Which I managed without skipping any of the sequences of moves. Damned good session for once.

Then, I needed an extra weewee after the main event was over. Oh, dear, I rushed about to get back in and went a little heavy-handedly on getting to Little Inchie, and I started off the Fungal Lesion bleeding. I cleared and washed things after the leak and had the job of applying the ointment. All I can say is,

I was sorting out waste bags and making a brew when Valerie arrived. After she gave me the medications and went through some questions.

Instant panic overcame me: “Had I left the hot water tap running?” The short answer is ‘YES, I had!

Not only that, in my lunge at the faucet to turn it off, I knocked the cold mug of tea over… one would have expected it to go into the sink… but, oh, no… This is me we are talking about, remember. The luckiest man in Nottingham. The mug bounced in the tap flow onto the edge of the sink, pouring the contents left in it down the front of my pyjamas; I had to clean the cupboard door, sink, floor and my rotund body with cold water! Luckily I now have an ever-increasing mass of flesh all around my midriff, which I pushed up against the sink to stop the mug from falling further – Which meant my protection pants and jammies got the worst water!

Despite my lousy language and wailing, Carer Valerie was oblivious to what had happened. After cleaning things up, she came into the kitchen (She’s not daft!) Off she trotted, taking the waste bag with her for me.

The tap water is now running cold, and it will do so until the heating comes back early tonight! No shaving or owt until then. Humph! I do hate myself at times! Doreen Dementia does it. If ever I get interrupted doing anything, there is always a high risk of a Faux pas, and I forget what the other thing I was doing was… Grunglenagwaggles! I think?

I double-checked the taps, lights, etc., and got the potatoes into the crockpot. There was another Throne visit and two more weewees, and I started prepping things for Josie’s meal.

I got the pork out and added it to the bowl with the sliced onions, mushrooms and leeks. And spotted some string within the edges of the rind of the meat? So, as if I’d not lost enough time already, I had to check over all the meat to see if there was any more string. Good job that I checked it; I found another small piece. (Photo)

It took me ages with cataracts, and I found closing the right eye gave me a slightly better view… But of course, it warped the peripheral view, and I knocked the boning knife off of the counter. It now has its pointed end dented around into a sharp point. What are the odds of another Accifauxpas?

I was washing a basin I’d used, and the landline chimed out. I had to get the basin safe and rushed to get to the phone in time; it took a while. It was Sister Jane. She was in line at the City Ground to collect her ticket for the play-off final for Forest.

Now, this is proof, if the Doctor wants any, that I have Vascular Dementia Doreen: I suddenly thought I might have left the tap running (Cold Water) and excused myself to go and check. I had to, no choice. I grabbed metal Micky and off to the kitchen… The tap was dribbling, and for some reason, I thought it was the hot water tap, and also totally forgot about my leaving the hot water one on earlier, and thought… well, I’m not sure, but I think I told Jane, when I got back to the landline, the hot water tap has run cold? Every time something takes my attention away from what I’m doing, there is a possibility of such farces happening!

However, I didn’t realise this at the time, and we had a chinwag about footy, family etc., for a good while. Colin Cramps was kicking off in the left hand, the bent arm holding the phone for so long; Jane had the same problem, Fatal! Hehehe! Fatal! I foolishly took a swig of nearly cold tea using my right.

Listening to Jane talk, I grabbed some kitchen towels to try to wipe things up. I spilt some tea on the desktop and memory notepad. What the hell next? A little later, Jane rang off as her cramps were getting painful. Bless her.

I cleared up the mess that left some indecipherable scribble on the pad; oh, dear! At long last, I got around to getting the Health Checks done.

At least these results were outstanding all around. SIS 132, DIA 62, Pulse at 79. And the body temperature was the highest it’s been all year. Not that my mind appreciated it at the time. All I could think of was getting yesterday’s blog updated and sent off, let alone thinking of getting this one started! I took some snaps of the car park on Chestnut Way. No RVM? (Red Van Man) I had a look around…

Aha, I found RVM. Parked in the front section. And… parked legally and properly too!

Down below on the right end, I spotted the regularly good parkers, having snuggled their vehicle in nice and tidily!

I updated the Saturday post and got it posted off, much belatedly than planned. Even I didn’t expect so much hassle, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplop to emerge, even for a Sunday! Surely things have got to calm down? Fingers crossed.

Deciding to treat myself to a non-alcoholic, not a Cocktail, but Mocktail. I enjoyed it… until I remembered that it had pineapple in it. What a pillock! Hopefully, it will not affect the Warfarin INR level too much. I looked at the NHS DVT site about fruits to avoid when on Warfarin. In order of the highest in Vitamin K ones: Dates, Plantains, Kiwifruit, Rhubarb, Cranberries, Pineapple, Avocados, Blueberries, and Blackberries. They added; Certain drinks: Cranberry juice, and Alcohol, can increase the effect of Warfarin, leading to bleeding problems. Avoid or consume only teensy-weensy amounts of Cranberry juice and Alcohol. These drinks, when taking Warfarin, can prove fatal in the event of a bleed. Fair enough, I was aware of all of these.

Da-Daa! I hope she likes it again and that there are no more bits of string in the meat! I got Josie’s meal presented and delivered with a few treats and nibbles.

On the computer, WordPress Reader first. Then Facebooking. Finally, WP Comments. Then remembered to check on Amazon to see when the plates were due to arrive. The Amazon site said they were expected to arrive twixt 16:00 and 1800hrs. Fair enough!

They were: 25 Pcs Disposable Palm Leaf Plates – Organic Wooden Plates Biodegradable and Compostable Natural Eco-Friendly Square Party Plates 15×15 cm. I can’t say why I ordered them, but it seemed a good idea at the time. I think there was some specific use I had in mind? But with the mind being under the influence of Doreen’s Dementia, I don’t recall. Not that that is anything unusual. I like the idea of them being eco-friendly?

I pressed on with making this template, then got to record some actual facts and words. For the more discerning blogger to peruse, of course. Both of them! Hehe! The card reader accepted the photos taken today.

Then the plates arrived from Mr Amazon. By gum, they are so light! They have unevenness across the base. Which may cause me problems when moving or using them and the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shuddering Shoulder-Shirley, or Dizzy Dennis kick-off when I’m eating off them? I wish I could remember what it was about them; they must have sounded attractive when I ordered them?

I’m so behind with this blog now; the Evening Carer will be here soon. I was obviously not going to get a shower today or a meal until very late. But despite the hassle, I do love creating my Inchcock Today… Ah, that reminds me, I’d better go and check on the state of the fungal lesion. Back in a bit…

Carer Sarah arrived. Got me sorted, and we had a laugh and natter for a couple of minutes, which I enjoyed.

Worked on the blog, but I was so far behind. Weariness won the battle, and I got down to get some kip. It was late, about midnight, and I was doing my health, mental and eyes no good staying up this late.

At least when I got down, I was soon in the arms of Sweet Morpheus. But had a weird dream; that seemed to go on and on all night?

Inchcock Today: Thursday 24th February 2022

Thursday 24th February 2022

Why is Liberty-Global Virgin Internet Media such utter, Crap?

How, when a man can earn figures like these below for Mike Fries, boss of Liberty-Global, who owns Virgin Media along with tons of other acquisitions,  and he still can’t manage to get a Virgin Media Internet connection to Sherwood, Nottingham, without it going down every single day, several times?

Just asking, like… Not that it bothers me!

I got my head down late, and I fought to nod off until gone midnight. At least I only shot awake twice, well, three times, but I decided to get up then, at 4:30hrs. I was persuaded by Little Inchie, who required a wee-wee. Hehe!

The significant bit about this is how refreshed I felt! Less than four hours sleep, but it felt like I’d had ten or more? Grrreat! I think the Hemp capsules are helping me sleep a bit better now?

Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was getting a little rough at times; these episodes continued all day, though never for any lasting time, a minute to perhaps five.

Off to the Porcelain Throne and do a stand-up early-morning shave and wash, etc. The Throne session went so nearly perfectly! There was no need to rush or push; the evacuation eased out of its own accord, painlessly! A few spots of blood, nowt to fret over.

Ah, things did get a bit fraught in the teggie-cleaning and shaving departments! I caught the broken tooth, and a bit more came off, and I vampires some of the blood. Hehe! Then, I managed to nick my right ear lobe with a razor, and boy did that bleed too! The tiniest cut imaginable too? I had to use a lot of kitchen towels to soak it up with. And a lot of the Brute aftershave.

But there were no toe-stubbings, walking or knocking into anything, colly-wobbles, Dizzy Dennis’, or tumbles. I even coped with getting the long diabetic bamboo socks on without putting myself in danger by using Sock-Glide-Glenda! Smug-Mode-Applied!

MedPhorpain Again, things went well. The only correctly painful treating was rubbing the Phorpain Gel into Arthur Itis’ left knee, and as I did the right one, Cartilage Cathy was giving me what for. Codeine when I’ve finished I thought (But I forgot!).

I did struggle a bit getting the trousers on cause Arthur and Cathy were making things challenging this morning. Overall, I was well pleased with the sessioning. I moved down to Defcon-Three in the Smug-Mode. Again surprising myself at how well things were going, considering the lack of sleep.

My new Chinese (Hong Kong) was made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer came up with a body temperature of 33.7°c, which is really low. Tried again with the ear-thermometer. That was better, 34.3°c. The Blood Pressure had gone down nicely to 147/68. The Pulse was 86bpm. Perfick!

Oh, back to the Porcelain Throne!

Yet another good evacuation! Smug-Mode Grade Three Adopted!

A skunk and a clatter from aloof, sniffy attituded Herbert’s apartment above.

🏴‍☠️ Virgin went down. Hard to believe, I know…

Carer Richard rang the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime and came in. I was in the kitchen, suffering from a longish and violent attack from Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. I was struggling to stir the tea safely. Good old Richard did it for me. He’s never been here when I was having an SSS session; it fritted him a little at first. He’s a caring Carer. Got the prescriptions taken, had a little natter, and even raised a laugh. Off he trotted after selecting some treats.

I went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana, this time. By, gum, the sky looked like it was getting darker again? I took a snap from the kitchenette window of the front car park, Chestnut Walk.

I waited a while, hoping some birds might fly by, but they didn’t.

Even the cloudy skies looked attractive to me; they seemed to have varying highlights?

Had a wee-wee, washed, made a mug of Thompsons Punjana, and made my way out into the balcony. To take a photograph of the end car park.

Red van man was back blocking the ingress and exit route, fully parked on the yellow chevrons, yet again. Naughty boy! I’m just jealous now that they have taken my driving licence off me after the stroke. Hehehe!

Sister Jane

Sister Jane rang me on the landline. But the signal was terrible… it always is actually from West Bridgford. We had an excellent chinning session. Despite Jane’s croaky voice, my blocked ears, and the appalling connection, I got most of what we were reminiscing about and laughing.

Back to the blogging. I lot of interruptions, Dementia Doreen, cataracts making viewing/typing slow going, and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was amazingly calm, so I tried to make the best of this… but I was only causing more errors by trying to rush. Then: Another interruption, window cleaner Joe arrived. But he is always welcome and a good chinwagger, too! We, well, I spoke and moaned a fair bit. Eventually, the subject matter got lighter, and laughter ensued! Selected a drinkie and nibble in thanks, and on he went to another flatlet or apartment, no doubt that will cheer them up!

I came across the picture I thought I’d lost, of last nights’ nosh. Some idiot put it in the wrong folder, TSk! I ate most of it. Gorgeous fresh garden peas, red, yellow and black tomatoes Very nice! Cornish pasty M&S, the best! And BBQ potatoes! Flavour rating: 8⅛/10.

Ye gods, what was that? Kerumph, from the flat above. Well… drilling now! I hope Herbert has not fell-over and broken his neck. I think.

Checked the beef chunks in the crock-pot. These are Icelands “Extra Lean” beef chunks, by the way. Just look at the fat floating freeing around! Eurgh! I sieved some off of the mixture, and I added some gravy browning and black bean sauce… fingers-crossed for tonights’ nosh! Looks horrible?

Going to have to rest a bit now. An unfortunate visit from Dizzy Dennis forces this. Made a mug of Glengettie and ate a rather delightful mini-marshmallow, which tasted so good! I sat down to recuperate from the scary bashing from Dennis at one of his more vicious attacks.

I nodded off, quickly, and a few minutes later, shot-awake, clambered free of the £300 recond-hand recliner, and off for Porcelain Throne visit number three of the day! Giving myself en route, the first good hefty toe-stubbing of the day! Argh! Ahem! I never flinched… or swore at all.

♬ Oh, Susana ♬ chimed out again. It was Phlebotomy nurse Hristina! I immediately cheered up. And girded parts of my loins that had not been fortified since the last time she came! Hahaha! I know; I remember needing the tablets.

Hristina got the blood taken in her usual kind. patient, heart-rate increasing way. ♥ She had time for a minute worth of nattering today, which I appreciated. Had to force the gal to take a treat in thanks. She departed; I was downhearted; I belched, farted, and went for a wee-wee.

Carer ElenaMinutes later, ♬ Oh, Susana ♬ chimed out again. Once more, my heart rate increased… for it was desirable Carer Elena, come to do the medications. We had another natter and laughed. thanked her, offering her choice of nibbles and drinkies, she is always reluctant to take any, but I forced her I thin in the end. ♥ She departed, taking the waste bags with her for me to the chute. 🧡

By gum, I’ve done well with getting all this pulchritude visiting me today!

Got the nosh sorted and served up. A bit better this time. The beef chunks that had been heating in the slow-cooker for seven hours or so tasted better cause of the BBQ and chilli seasonings. The black, yellow and red tomatoes were tasty. The fresh garden peas were terrific! The cheese and bean pastie went down well. Rating: 8.2/10.

Now, I should be getting to sleep… but no! So many visitors, the computer playing up all day, Cataract Kathleen, and Cartilage Cathy joined forces to hamper my progress with the blog. Now it’s going to be (estimated) midnight before I can get it finished. Still, the beautiful ladies of the day perked me up.

Summary of the (better) Day Ode

Beautiful ladies arrived today, but no pas de deux!
Ailments generally were pretty good; no, it’s true!
But Cartilage Kathy chose to turn the pain-screw!
The dying computer’s terrible; I think its death is due…
Fair enough, you’d be right, saying this of me too!

Noisy Herbert above gave me less of a hullabaloo…
Consistently demanding were summons to the loo!
Four visits to the Porcelain Throne was an issue…
Great natters today, more than a few…
They help keep me from feeling too blue!

Caring Carers, cheerful window man Jo, who…
Along with nurse Hristina, they gave good social value!
Without them, I don’t know what I’d do…
Each one leaving left me sadder on their Depardieu…
A betterer day like today has been long overdue!

Evening all!

Tue 1 Sept 15: Inchcock Today: Not much done today

Tuesday 1st September 2015

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I’m starting this diary off from yesterday at 2100hrs – due to me getting confused as to what time it was, thinking it was morning when it was evening and what day it was… if yer see worra mean.

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Started this diary, then did some Facebooking and checked emails.

Got a wash and shave, then the Morrison’s order came – the driver didn’t leave any paperwork with the nosh?

Rang Steve UK as he told me to about the keys for the old place – No answer… Well fancy that!.

Had a cuppa and took me medications rather late in the day but still, better late than never.

Now I’ve got to wait for Steve from Age UK to ring back, and keep trying to ring him. Can’t make plans for going about me hearing aids.

I rang Jane and Pete about fetching me Deeds for the  house but they couldn’t tell me when I could go to collect them as Pete had to go to the dentist.

No answer from Steve Age UK.

Popped into the WC taking me phone with me in case Steve from Age UK rang (Faith that was!).

A knock came on the door – struggled to get missen decent and hobbled t’door – it was the lady I was speaking to yesterday from the floor below – she’d spotted a hearing-aid on the table in reception and thought it might be mine!

Hopes lifted we went down and it was the one I’d lost! Yahoo!

Thank heavens someone found it and the lady informed me!

When I got back in hunger pangs gripped me, and I put some chips on t’oven and had two of them Polish hot dog like things. I rang Steve (The invisible man) of Age UK and forgot to take a photo of me nosh, but was still well and truly over-the-moon with finding the hearing aid.

Ate it up and cleaned the kitchen up a bit, then had a search… a long unfruitful search for me Audio Record Book.

Made a cuppa and took me midday medications.

Watched two episodes of New Tricks while waiting foolishly for Steve (The invisible man and Councillor) of Age UK to get in touch as he said he would last Friday. Humph!

Did some graphicalisationing.

Still no answer from Steve Age UK. “Ring me and I’ll come and collect the keys and get started sorting out selling your house for sale…” said Steve of Age UK last Friday.

Well I did call him Tuesday (Today like), 5 times before 1100hrs leaving voice messages – then Text him – Then tried on the other phone twice, left messages, then text him on the other phone and tried fruitlessly to ring him yet again… twice more. It is now 1345hrs and I’m well miffed, after getting me hopes up with foolishly believing him again! I think I’ll have a sign made for me forehead: “Please Con Here”.

I can certainly recommend any older person with problems and no help to contact Nottingham Age UK to try to get a Councillor to assist them… if they are sadists and mugs that is.

Can’t concentrate on doing owt else at the moment. Need to know where and when I can get the keys to Steve so he can start moving with the house selling.

Wanted to get to do some things in town as well, but the unknowing and lack of control of events is so frustrating!

Aye up… Steve from Age UK rang… I take it all back… He going to call in tonight to collect the keys on his way home to enable him to get a Charity charity van to pick up owt they’d like, then house clearers. And I hope get the house on the market sharpish!

Cheers up a tad now, currently singing away to missen a mix of the mobile phone ring tone and Adam Faiths, ‘We are in Love”, with intermittent bits of Dean Martin’s old stuff.

I went down to the Winwood Community shed with the mail for Margaret the last tenant, and handed Deana Walker and Obergruppenfurher Julie a choice of nibbles.

Got back to the graphics with a renewed jest.

Fell asleep and woke up with Steve ringing the intercom.

Gave him the house key and had a little chin-wag.

He showed me some of the functions of the TV remote thingy, then shot off cause he was on his way home and had frozen foods in the boot of his car.

I put kettle on and made a cuppa and took me evening medications.

Laptop on and updated this scintillating bit of rubbish.

IMG_0002Comment from Angie mentioning her itch on her back and how she struggles to get to it to relieve it.

I told her about me shoe-horn that I bought last week at Ikea and how I now utilise it as a back-scratcher.

Perhaps she could employ me as an official Angel-Back-scratcher and I could move over to the States? Just a thought like.

AANancyDid some graphicalisationing for the TFZ page.

Lyzzi and Thomas in this one, with a few TFZers pets thrown in. Hope they like it. Two new pets included that I didn’t have photographs of to use in the past.

The now becoming famous early evening tiredness dawned again on me.

I got down and conceded to the land of nods calling.

Sun 23 Aug 2015: Inchcock Today: Duncans Visitation

Sunday 23rd August 2015

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Wonderful view this morning

0405hrs: Woke up with severe stomach pains again, laid there and some memories of the dreams remained: People who I’d know in the past where interrogating me about something, and they kept passing me into other bare rooms with a chair, desk and a pair of binoculars hanging on a mannequin of a laughing policeman? In each room someone rollocked me about something… Lost in a building, got to the roof, jumped off, changed me mind too late and as I dropped Lords of the manor types started to shoot at me with the shotguns, I noted they had poodles as gun dogs?

That’s all I recall.

Got up painfully (Knees and angina) and managed to get into the bathroom – where I really struggled to perform my excavations duties – it was agony – took an hour plus and I bled profusely afterwards. A most uncomfortable feeling remained in my innards after for ages.

Gingerly went and made a cup of tea to take me medications with, and wondered if the Beetroot and Apple bread I had late yesterday had caused the intestinal problems this morning? But last time I had some there was no reactions like this?

I’d saved half the Beetroot bread and wrapped it up in foil to help keep it fresh for Dunc to try when he called today – not sure if I ought to feed him that now.

No signs of the warned-about rains yet.

Set about doing some Facebooking while I had the chance and was in the mood.

I was a bit cheerfulish cause of Dunc coming to see me like.

Went to get a shave wash and ready for Dunc’s arrival. I didn’t really mean to stub me toe on the way out of the kitchen on me new storage boxes and knock off me 36 medication box’s onto the floor so they now all have to washed again – and I kept the curses to low decibel level. Huh!

All freshened up I went to put me hearing-aids in to go and meet Dunc as he arrived… could I find them? No! Spent ages and ages searching and slowly going bonkers!

Eventually went down and met Dunc who had very kindly brought me a really useful computer desk and chair. It’s also dead handy for having a nosh off of. So kind of him, what a man… but I was guilt ridden with not being able to concentrate on  anything properly cause I was panicking about me hearing aids and the thought of £4000 to replace them I couldn’t tell half of what he was saying either.

We got upstairs and in between my nipping off every few minutes to search somewhere I’d already searched for the hearing-aids, I made us a cuppa and we and a chin-wag.

He showed me some photographs of the isle in Scotland where was born and lived, I’ve never seen such beautiful land before.

Dunc’ started to assemble the clothes-racks, while I guiltily kept nipping off for a failed search for the aids. After he’s finished the first one I joined him in pretending to help him with the second one.

The third one was the killer… between us we managed to reach a level of pathetic competency and after erecting the tubes into a frame, struggled with the  canvas for hours until Dunc realised we should have threaded the first tubes through the canvas… I was so thankful for all his help, as I now have two clothe-horses I can use, and would never have got them assembled on me own.

A very weary and tired Duncan returned home, and I guiltily thanked him and returned to the flat to search yet again for the hearing-aids.

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Nosh, eaten at the table and chair kindly supplied by Sir Duncan Roberson

I got me nosh on, boiled new spuds, mini sausages, apple, fresh pod peas and beetroot, with caramelised red onion relish – followed by lemon and Cornish clotted cream.

I think I would have enjoyed it so much more if was not nipping off to search places I must have searched two or three times already for me haring-aids while eating it.

Finished me main course and was about to start on me lemon and cream and a thought came over me puddled brain – ‘Did I scoop up me hearing-aids with the paperwork earlier this morning when clearing the window ledge in readiness or me doing the checking out of the turn switch so I could clean them – then forgot about? (Bit of a mouthful there, sorry). I went into the bedroom where I stashed the stuff and found the carrier bag – OH THE JOY when I found them!

I went back and finished the lemon and Cornish clotted-cream, suddenly it tasty such a lot better.

A cuppa and took me medications, emailed Dunc’ with thanks and told him I’d found the hearing-aids.

Bet he thinks I’m a right plonka – mind you, I am!