Insecure Inchy’s Sunday 10th January 2021, Diary

TFZeress Betty

Sunday 10th January 2021

Swedish: Söndag 10 januari 2021

00:45hrs: I was re-envigorated, (speaking loosely), back to life, with vague bits of flotsam and jetsam milling about in the brain, about the dream I’d been having. It was not enough to remember exactly what happened, but I knew I was underground, in caves possibly, and being pursued by an angry mob. That’s all, really… Oh, and I was young and fit!

A few moments later, getting my monolithic-sized stomached body free of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner, the need for the Porcelain Throne became apparent. And it grew more urgent by the second! My swaying, butt-gripping wobble to the wet room, (I could have qualified for entry into the Ministry of Funny Walks competition) with the addition of Balance-Loss-Leslie, must have been one of the most hilarious to look at, I’ve ever done.

The jammies and PPs were almost torn off in my haste, I landed on the plastic raised bog contraption with such a bang, and I was off-target a smidge. Harold’s Haemorrhoids paid the price! The evacuation started straight away, and it flowed, for a long time, but without any interruptions, or pain! Damned messy though, and heavy bleeding too, (I assume from the poor old piles taking a battering as I plonked my bum down?) A good bit of cleaning up had to be done again. No doubt about it, Trotsky Terence is making a comeback and won the DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle) for supremacy, over Constipation Konrad.

As I turned from the washbasin after medicating and cleaning, the adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance kicked-off, with a short but brutal flailing performance. Neuropathic Pete has been overdoing the dancing over the last few days. But this time, he caused me no injuries, I was lucky enough to be in the middle of the wet room, used the sink to hold onto, and I was too far away from anything lethal to knock into or against. Also, the attack only lasted about 30 seconds, so no falling over involved either. I could not help it.

Feeling a little perkier with my having a spot of good fortune, I got the Health Checks done, the terrible ‘Hum’ became louder, a lot louder suddenly? Humph! You can’t win ’em all!

The sphygmomanometer, made in China for Boot’s, knocked back mt Smug-Mode a bit, the SYS was right up to 183, and that was just after the evacuation involuntary right leg neuropathic dancing bout. But the pulse was still lower and fine.

My Hong Kong manufactured Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer reading, was fine again, at 36.9°c, and in the green. The urge for a brew of Glengettie was yielded to this morning, as the Terence Toothache, didn’t feel so tender. (I am a Fool!)

I got the kettle on, opened the light & view-blocking, hard to get at to clean, new kitchen window, to take a photo of the view. The Nikon camera was not working again, so I had to use the Canon, which is not very good at taking night pictures at all. I doctored this photo on CorelDraw, to make it a little lighter.

Back to the front room and got the computer on, the tea was cool enough now, so I took the medications with it, then got down to sorting the updating of yesterdays blog. I remembered to put the nurses visit who phoned and woke me last night to inform me, she’d be calling Monday, onto the Google calendar. Got the photos uploaded from the SD card, then worked on the updating. I got it done and posted it off. Emailed the link, then Pinterested some snaps, and went on the WP Reader.

A wee-wee, then I passed some involuntary wind and wound up on CorelDraw, to create a few thought graphics for the IT. I got three done, then it was time to get the ablutions done, so I will have time to get Josie’s meal done.

Things got ridden with Confusional Conrad while I was taking the shave and shower. All memories from here have moments of lucidity, and blank periods, only a few scribbled notes to work from, in the morning?

The ablutions were a complete blank.

Found this photo.

The waste bags were gone, so I assume I made some up and added them, to those in the box and took them to the chute.

Jane rang, rang back. Cooking Josie’s and made meals at the same time, for Josie and me.

Dropped a saucepan, and also I think my dinner bowl. I woke later in the recliner, with a sharp pain in my right hip, so I may have gone over at some stage.

Delivered Josie’s nosh, found photo’s I could not remember taking.

I felt more confused, but I just plodded on, I think. I recall getting some Iceland minced beef, the fatty so-called less than 5% fat packet I started last week and froze it.

Dizzy Dennis attacked regularly, and the weariness forced me to get my head down earlier than ever before.

Found this picture from the ablutioning.

Fell asleep in the chair, woke with the right Hippy Hilda in agony, and was not sure if the door chimes went or not in my sleepy haze. I investigated and found a bag from Jenny with pickled eggs and minced beef outside the door. Bless her.

I drifted into having no idea what I was doing at this stage. I was sure I’d forgotten something.

Shattered and discombobulated as I was, I could not get back to sleep for hours, and could not think clearly, which helped me cope with the sudden sanity-testing, over-active Thought-Storms.

I seem to recall that the minced beef Chilli con carne was fatty. Thank heavens Jenny has got me some better sort for the next CCC. Thanks, Jenny, I’ll get the money down to you after the nurses have been today (Monday). So kind of you.

Not sure if I’ve missed anything out, one of my worstest periods of blank incertitudes for a long time.

Inchcock, the Silly-Shilly-Shallier. Sunday 6th December 2020

TFZer Keith solves his accommodation problem. Hehe!

I hope the Harold Shipman-admiring apothecarist will be investigated when I snuff-it? Hehe! (Details below, dang, dang, dang… Dang!)

Sunday 6th December 2020

Dutch: Zondag 6 December 2020

01:15hrs: I stirred, shuffled, and a blasting emission from the read end that set Harolds Haemorrhoids stinging convinced me to escape out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner. I caught my balance and limped to the wet room and the awaiting the Porcelain Throne.

But regrettably, things didn’t go well at all in there this morning! I was in plenty of time and seated my rhinoceros but wobbly -shaped body down, and in anticipation of a long session, like yesterday’s, I grabbed the crossword book, like yesterday. I wasn’t disappointed!

Trotsky Terence was again thrashed by Constipation Konrad in the PTDDS (Porcelain Throne Daily Domination Stakes). The pain grew worse as things kept starting and stopping mid-stream several times. When the evacuation finally and blissfully stopped, there lied a rock-solid light grey torpedo, steaming and proudly ticking-up out of the water, fin end up! Gawd, what a relief! How in hell, that monster was cleared with one flush, I’ll never know?

I washed and cleaned up, ointmentated the delicate regions, and as I was leaving, I spotted the mildew killer that I’d sprayed on the bad spots of the floor yesterday. It looked to me like by forgetting to go back and rinse it away, I may end up with the floor looking worse than if I’d not meddled with it in the first place. (My life has been a little like that, not to mention the errors, bad choices, and… I’d better stop, there are too many woebegone, voodooed, hapless, Jonah-like and ill-fated things to mention. Haha!)

I got the Health Checks done, Sys still high.

And the body temperature was once again very fair indeed!

I got the new packs of medications out of the prescription bag, putting them with the Enoxaparin and yellow-dirty bin on the fairer, and made a brew of Glengettie.

I took a moody shot of the view from the unwanted, disliked, impossible to get cleaned, kitchen windows. I tried to get the Christmas light in it, and the street lights that gave me the impression, that I’d soon see the Three-Wise-Men coming into view. Hahaha!

  Unbelievable!

Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, were playing with me again. I cannot win with them! Fair enough, they were kind enough to deliver this month’s prescriptions and sent a beautiful young lady to deliver them… but they never fail to take the piss, short deliver, send the wrong amount of medications etc. but this time…

They sent to packs of pods, without any seals of them! When I opened the first one, without my realising, (they are always transparent)

The pills and capsule bounded, shot and flew out all over the place! Some ending up on the floor, I found others on the recliner, others on the floor! Two in the hallway, two in waste bin! I ended up painfully bending on my knees to gather up as many as I could, but there were and still are five absentees that escaped and hid somewhere they are not to be found!

Getting back up, I hit my shoulder on the doorframe as I pulled myself up, and now the previously today, well-tempered SSS (Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) is giving me some mild agony! Flibblegonknackles! 

  Glunglegnatsworth Then, I had the impossible task of sorting the tablets out to get back in the pods!  I had to end up guessing which was which, and some of the escapees were never found. The photo here is one of each of the three medications, you can see how hard it is to identify them. Glunglegnatsworthy!

I ended up having to use the old pods from when I made my own up, but it wasn’t easy. I dropped a few tablets with the shaking right hand (Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters) and even more were lost, or rather couldn’t be found. So through no fault of my own, I’m going to be short of medications again!  That is if I don’t kill myself first by taking the wrong medications?. Granglesknackersbuggerit! 

I lost hours, thank you to, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453.

I’ve no confidence in my having got any of the medication pots right. Gumph!

At long last, I get on the computer to update yesterday’s blog. A mixture of anger, hatred, frustration and fear slowed me up, oh, and Nicodemus didn’t help.

A second-summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. With a sort of panicky-dread, I got the wetroom and found that exactly (almost) the same type of evacuation was suffered, as the first one! But the whole thing was over so much quicker this time.

I was getting a smidge depressed now, I could still not believe what the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub and Lidls had done to me! Concentration and coping with SSS was getting me down.

I decided to get some belated breakfast. I pot noodle with added gravy, and the last three slices of bread thins. Nae matter, I’ve got some part-baked baguettes to use. I must get a food order done later on.

I’d try Morrisons, but am not prepared to take their substitutes, the smaller Protection Pants they subbed, could have been returned I suppose, but would the driver wait for me to try a pair on, the accept them back having opened the pack? I think not. I dare not risk getting AAA batteries in place of toothpaste again! It’ll have to be Sainsbury’s then. They are not any better substitutors, though. Instead of bread, they subbed pikelets last time! My own thoughts are winding me up now! Skullclogglebonks!

Time to get Josie’s meal cooked and served soon, I’d better get the ablutions sorted. The session went well. Too well, it was worrying, in fact. A grand total of only seven dropsies (Oh, Yes!), no, I say NO shaving cuts, no dizzies, no knocking anything over, toe-stubbing or walking into anything! Just when I was feeling down and sorry for myself (Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA), this happens, and I bounce down to depression Defcon Three! Hahaha! One thing though, as I anticipated, mt leaving the scourer on the floor overnight, has made it look worse than ever now. Tsk! Always summat int there?

I got the handwashing sone, rung and hung. Almost forgot about Josie’s nosh, guilt-mode adopted!

I pressed on keeping my eye on the clock. No much coking in this feast for the gal, fresh tomatoes, last of the pickled eggs, cooked beetroot, Mackerel in BBQ sauce, and my world-famous cheesy potatoes… well, Josie, Jane and Pete like them?

A few minutes before midday, at the time the Madam likes her Chef to deliver the Sunday meal, I arrived at Josie’s front door and rang the bells (well, I thought it was a good idea, yer, see). I handed Josie the tray of fodder, with the Rum & Coke drinky, and Limoncello dessert. We had a short natter, and I took this photographicalisation of Josie and her tray. The gal seemed happy enough with it, bless her.

I set to washing up the cooking pots and pans. During which, I knocked a measuring jug and funnel off of the draining board. I thought it rather funny, finding a missing potatoes letter from yesterdays Accifauxpas when I got down to retrieve the jug. The letter Y, why I asked myself. Hehehe!

  Then, reaching down near the cooker for the funnel, I came across a diamond-hard pea! So long since I had any fresh garden peas? Giggle! Shows there is hope for maybe finding some of the missing tablets, yet?

Took the photo of the end car park at the side of the flats. Oddly, all the vehicles in view were either red or black. The Mafia, and the FBI, came to mind?

Note the new Balcony pods? Well, they are not new now, are they?

Back on the updating of this blog. Hours flashed by, as did the getting my head down, thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453.

For some reason, possibly Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, I was not really hungry now. Humph! But this soon changed after Roger Reflux started working, and had rid itself of a symphony of wind. So, I got on with the Chilli Con Carne and meatball nosh.

I soon had it digested. Tasty enough too. A Flavour-Rating of 7.5/10.

Then took the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, collated, dispensed, and inspired, “Risk-Yer-Life’, ‘Take Pot-Luck’, ‘Cross Yer Fingers’, medications.

Got down to get some kip, which arrived quickly, but did not last long. I woke up at midnight, sickenly with a jolt, that put a ban and the mockers, on getting back to sleep. Humph!

Inchcock, Nottingham’s Catnapping, Somnolence expert: Sunday 29th November 2020

I’m sending wishes through the ether, that this will happen! ♥

Sunday 29th November 2020

Sunday 29th November 2020

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01:30hrs: I stirred, and was amazed to find I had slept for over five uninterrupted hours – and this after the night before’s mammoth sleep-in? I seem to have changed suddenly from an insomniac to a narcoleptic? Why I ask? I’m still waiting for an answer. Hehehe!

The mind seemed to be more responsive as well, the thoughts seemed more apparent when I talked to myself. A degree of uncustomary determination lingered as well; The Sainsbury order is due early today, Josie’s meal needs preparing and delivering, and I recalled that I’d put the new tube of Germoloid in the wet room.

I was a smidge disappointed in myself when I saw the untaken evening pot of medications still on the Ottoman, though. I mused for a few seconds, on why I am suddenly missing so many night tablets so often? But got no reply from the brain, which decided that a mug of Glengettie tea was more important.

So, I removed my overly-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, dirty, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, rusty, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and up onto the feet to catch my balance. And this, usually a struggle at times, even causing Accifauxpas, was done with fantastic ease! Grabbed Metal-Micky, and was so glad I did, cause, en route to the kitchen, I had a bit of a wobbly, had I not got the stick, I could easily have gone over. I put the kettle on.

Musing over what a mixed start to the day it’d been so far, and I’d only been up for a few minutes? It was foggy outside, and it looked so cold with it, I decided against taking any open window photographs.  Made the brew, and back to the ottoman get the Health Checks done, all in auto-mode.

The sphygmomanometer needed a couple of tries to get it to work. The first effort indicated I’d snuffed it. Hahaha! But at least try two showed the SYS was down a tad, to 160. The thermometer showed a lower temperature too, at 36.1°c.

My aboulomania flourished, as I thought about what to do about the missed medications. I took the evening ones as I did yesterday, and must remember to take the morning ones later on. 

Then, as I turned, I hit my head on the corner of the door. Not badly, I’ve had many worse ones, but it seemed to spark a change in my everyday routine?

Instead of getting on with the computerisationing as I always do after the balance, and health checks and medication taking: Amazingly, I got the dark blue zip-up jerkin hand-washed? All done, wrung and hung on the coathanger to dry, but why?

Got the computer on, and instead of cracking on with the IT diary updating, I went on Facebook updating?

Finally, I went onto the updating of the Diary. A long job, but as Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Saccades-Sandra were all in a good mood with me, I got it completed reasonably quickly. (This was worrying – something going right!)

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, off to the wet room. The daily battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad was a massive defeat for Konrad, 4-0. Talk about yucky, a monstrous, messy, mass, manoeuvred into the bowl. A lot of effort needed to clean things furniture-wise and bodily followed—a good wash around, and back to the Computer.

Posted the diary off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and Pinterested a few snaps from the post. Then made a start on this template.

Around 06:00hrs, I heard a shuddering clunk, it sounded like it was from close-by. I had a poddle around in my bestest Sherlock Holmesian style, but could not find what it was that caused it? I hope no one has had a fall above me.

I started this writing for a while but had to stop. The ablutions needed doing, so I would be all prepared in time, in the case of the Sainsbury order arriving on the button at eight o’clock.

Back in a bit… I hope!

I’m back! I got sidetracked again going to get the ablutions done. I went hand-washing mad again. (No, I don’t know why either, it must be the bang on the head? Hehehe!)

I have to say, although it was a stand-up wash and shave, it went tremendously well. No teeth problems, only one cut shaving, only two items knocked off of the cabinet and no more than ten dropsies in total. More good fortune! (Even more worrying, especially with the Sainsbury order coming, overcharging and bad subs will almost certainly come with the food? – My EQ has just warned me!)

As I was getting staggering around getting dressed, and putting on a slipper, a sharp pain was felt underfoot! The sort you get when you stand on something sharp, or a shard of glass. It was hard-work, painful, plaguy and galling, taking a photo of the wound. The Robert Morley like stomach tended to get in the way, Haha! I think it was a new papule coming up. Gawd it didn’t half sting when I put the foot down.

Sorry about the photo coming out in mono. Yet another mysterious wonder of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their Satanic mission, to hinder, scare, blight, embarrass, manacle, and throw a spanner in Inchcocks works, plans, hopes, and confidence! Which they succeeded in, but they usually do!

I took some photographs from the unliked kitchenette window. The fog (when writing this six hours or so later) only got thicker as the day went on. Oh, dear!

Then I got the hand-washing finished off, the green quilt I’d left to soak in the sink bowl. I rang it out as best I could, and got it on the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway, being careful not to hang over the electricals at the bottom. Not everyone can say that, Hehehe!

Back into the Steptoe & Son-like front room, and got the computer back on.

Incidentally, the wee-wees were few and far between today. I just thought I’d mention it like.

Moments later, the intercom rang out and lit up. T’was the Sainsbury order arriving. The driver’s first words were; “Sainsbury order, are you coming down to pick the stuff up?” I gave an “Oh… well, I’ll have to, I suppose!” I farted about getting a mask on, and the intercom went again. The driver asked if we had a lift. I said yes, and he said he’d bring the stuff up then. Thank heavens for that!

He arrived, just as I had a dizzy at the front door, he showed concern and unloaded the good into the box and two bags (As orders go, this was a biggun!) Then he carried them through to the kitchen for me. I thanked him, then got the paperwork out, to see what was what, substitution wise.

Well, there were a few concerns. The PP’s (Protection-Pants), had been substituted with smaller-size ones!

Plus, they were different from each other? I’d ordered two large size packets, but these were both medium-sized ones.

Now, I know that Sainsbury’s say you can return any substituted items not suitable. But would they appreciate my asking the driver to wait, while I go in the wet room, to try on a pair of pants – find they are too small, then put them back in the pack, sellotape it up, and hand them back to the driver for returning? I think not!

Then there was the lamentable, regrettable, disappointing, ill-advised, and stupid replacement for the delicious Potato cakes, Pikelets! Humph!

JS Pikelets, the only similarity being that they both have six items in the packet! I’d have thought the clue, ‘Potato’ might have prevented such an idiotic, inane, imbecilic, exasperating substitution, but no! (I think J Sainsbury and Morrisons are competing to get the annual, SSOTY (Stupidest-Substitution-of-the Year award). From my experience, it is a draw at the moment. They could have subbed with Irish Potato Farls, surely?

Thank heavens I ticked the ‘No Substitution’ option for the toothpaste, else I may have had a jar of pickled walnuts delivered, as well!

The Milk Roll loaf had one days life on it! Oh, and plain digestive biscuits came covered in chocolate. But I’m not complaining about that, there is a chance or even likelihood, that I ordered the wrong one, so fair do’s on that score.

Not that these idiotish, inane, illogical, crass, unreasoned, banal, piss-taking substitutions bother me too much, of course! Knackwrangles!

I set about sorting the food etc. and trying to find some room, I’d rather overdone it again. Not on the fresh stuff, mind. I’ve been caught out with short dates and bonkers substitutes that often this year, from JS and Morrisons.

The only thing that pleased me was that they had sent the cheapo (60p) Chilli-Con-Carne, (Morrisons had substituted their (59p) one, with £2.58 substitutes!) 

So, now I have a good stock of CCC in the kitchen, not the cupboard, that is already full. Hehehe!

Also, the can of Fray Bento’s meatballs in Chilli sauce, that can now be added to a tin that Hubbard’s (Sainsbury own label) Chilli Con Carne, making an easy peasy meal one day soon?

I’ll not starve for a bit, anyway. I may have a heart attack or another stroke, but still, it’s summat to look forward to – the Chilli, not the snuffing it! Glad I cleared that up!

I got the waste bags sorted onto the box on the trolley to go to the waste chute.

Then sorted the unwanted good from J Sainsbury’s crap substitutes and my possible (I think it was!) error on the chocolate biscuits I shouldn’t eat. Ahem! To take them down to Jenny’s, with some treats for Nora and Frank of the alcoholic variety. Hehe!

Of I poddled down in the lift to deliver the unwanted crap substitutes from J Sainsbury’s to Jenny’s. Who can use them as part of her charity, or whatever? They always get used to help others, with Jenny in control. Bless her!

I made a call before leaving, to Jen, to moan, lament, and bicker about the substitutions again. Hehe! And let her know I was on my way. Down and delivered them, back up and put the stuff in the waste chute on my floor.

I had a look on the Wilko site, as Jenny suggested to see if they had any PPs on sale. It was a £50 limit to get free delivery, or a minimum £10 charge. They only had a couple of men’s pants, and they were not cheap.

So I went on Amazon for a look-see what they had. I found these Tena ones, at £1 a disposable pair. I ordered some on Special Price, it said they were a new make. I just hope I’ve not ordered the wrong things again. They are at least a large size.

I then tended to prepare Josie’s meal sorted out. It was hard work doing it up today, not sure why. The cheesy potatoes were a little loose, I’d but in too much butter. But I think she likes them like that.

I delivered the meal eight minutes earlier than usual to Josie’s door, and there was no answer. Just as well, cause I’d forgot to take a photo of her Sunday feast. I nipped back in and took this shot and returned to her door and rang the bells again. I was greeted with; “You are early!” Hehehe! She laughed and inspected the fodder. It seemed to pass muster, she said she liked the fish Surami sticks, and the can of Rum and whatever went down well.

Please, I came back to the flat, did the washing up from the first nosh, and started updating the blog. Gawd this took me hours and hours! Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters had kicked off, creating error after mistake after cock-up! It was a frustrating time, and in the end, I had to give up.

I got my nosh going. I’m sure I’d ordered some battered fish on Iceland’s order, so to make room for them in the freezer, I had some, with the potato letters and peas.

I was suddenly all in again. No concentration left, and the right side of me was jumping and jerking, shoulder (SSS), and leg, which was threatening to do a Neuropathy Pete involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. But it didn’t, just stayed with its mini-palpitations throbbing away to its heart’s content.

I’ll have to finish this in the morning.

Good morning!

I got the nosh prepared, not sure how I didn’t fall asleep doing it, though. I was wearied, worn-out and worryingly hebetudinous. But, hunger helped me continue. The meal was worth 6.5/10, no doubt a reduced rating, due to my being so done-in.

I tucked in, then fell asleep after eating the meal. Woke a few minutes later thinking it was time to get up, I edged my Billy Bunter body and saw the pot of yoghurt laying unbroken, where it had rolled to, on the carpet. A dilemma now; Do I struggle to get up and retrieve the lemon curd yoghourt? Is it worth the monumental effort? Am I that keen on eating it? Yes, I was… wasn’t I?

It didn’t matter, cause I fell asleep again!

When I stirred once more, minutes later, I must have been dreaming about this quandary over the tub of dessert, because I found myself reaching for the yoghourt ith the long picker-upperer, and throwing it in the waste bin. How I managed this physically was something of a miracle. Did I actually do it, or imagined doing it? Will I wake up in the morning and tread on it? On and on the Thought-Storms raged!

Looking back, I wasn’t even sure that I wasn’t dreaming all of this?

I nodded off again, waking up again, wanting a wee-wee. As I had got up and was catching my balance, the agony from the mystery growth under the foot, made me jump a bit, no a lot! Got the wee-wee taken, staggered untidily to wash my hands, back to the c1968 recliner, got down painfully on the ringed cushion, (I’d missed the centre and started Harold’s Haemorrhoids stinging). I added recent events to the notepad. (Not that I could read the scrawl easily in the morning)

Oh, dearie me, I’d left the light on! Crying was an option, but self-loathing was stronger, and I silently cursed myself, got up to turn off the light, and suffered when the new papule, or whatever it is under the foot gave me more discomfort.

I think I had another discussion with the boss, Mr G. Mostly inquiring as to why he bothered to let me be born, maltreated me. Gave me so many defeats in life. And was now giving me agony, frustrations and confidence-destroying failures? I got no answers!

Failing to get back to sleep, I realised as I lay there discussing things with the Thought-Storm, I probably deserve the luck I’m getting, fir things I have done in early life. I tried to recontact Mr G and apologised for bothering him.

Guilt? Yes!

Inchcock – Sun 25 October 20: I floated from neurasthenia, utopia, depression and slothfulness. Worra day!

TFZer Keith: ♫ ‘Home, home on the range…’ ♫ Hehehe!

Sunday 25th October 2020

HMONG: Hnub Sunday 25 Lub Kaum Hli 2020

03:15hrs: I stirred into ersatz life, with the Thought-Storms that had made such a mess of my getting to sleep, still active, nae, rampant in the grey cells! Fungleboggles!

The new pain in the stomach area where I injected last night was stabbing away at me, although it could have been Anne Gyna, it’s hard to tell at times. I wasn’t Duodenal Donald, I’m sure.

I was busy trying to ignore the fears, hatreds and overwrought distracted thoughts milling about in my bonce, and help soon arrived in the form of a sudden and critical demand for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised.

I could sense the urgency, and feared that an embarrassing escapage was likely! Responding, by going into a semi-panic-stricken mode, a caution to the wind attitude was adopted, and I flailed about, knocking things off of the ottoman as I hauled my fat-fleshy, flaccid, flexuous, floppy, stomached heavy body onto my feet, got some balance, and was off to the wet room.

Hastening into the Throne-Room, the shoulder came into contact with the door frame, giving out a sicking crunching noise, and a jolt of pain! But this was not important at the time, getting the jammy-bottoms, and my bum on the toilet in time was more urgent (at least it took my mind off of the new stomach stings, Haha!).

This session was a real different one this morning, good and bad changes! Things flowed, to the accompaniment of the longest wee-wee I’ve ever had! The putrid aroma filled my lungs; the evacuation was over in a minute or so. Gawd, it was messy! It was a good job I have plenty of toilet paper in stock! The wee-weeing continued? Hard to tell really, but I do believe the wee-wee colour was lighter, at last! The gungy mass of stool filled the bowl so much, the wee didn’t have anywhere to go, and floated atop! Still, it took my mind off off the crunched shoulder and stomach pains for a while!

The tank had to be flushed twice to clear things, refilled by hand from the jug and sink. Then I had a soapy washing up, bleaching and sanitisationing session. Time for a feel of the shoulder, which the Accifauxpas did not set SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off?

No idea what it was on the arm, but I went to put some Savlon on it, and the lighter brown marks from this mornings clout into the doorframe, (I thought), nearly all disappeared, sort-of washed off?  Just the bluey-red bruises underneath left now. Logicality, common sense was questioned, and a certainty that the end is nigh for my limited remaining scraps of judgement and level-headedness! This ought to put on telly; there’s bound to be someone who can save my sanity and tell me what happened?

I now had mixed feelings. Glad that Constipation Konrad had been beaten at last – but this has taken some time and effort: Nine days of the four-a-day Dioctyl® stool softeners. The week of MacroBid® UTI antibiotics and several meals of Chilli-Con-Carne. Hahaha!

I was not looking forward to doing the injecting of the Enoxaparin, so got it dealt with first! The new hypodermic needles, which I suspected would have longer needles, didn’t! That was a nice discovery, a glimmer of luck at last?

All went smoothly, and the old Medical Sharps bin, was too full to use, so I started the new one-off. This made me think about getting rid of them. I looked it up of the NHS site. This is what I found.

All confused now! I’ve re-capped the mall! I’d better get them all out and sort them, before getting rid of them to the Pharmacy. I’m certain that the Nottingham City Council do not collect them, or there would be a special, dedicated box for them at these old folks flats?

Nope! I can’t open the box’s to get them out. Another plan goes to pot! And the shoulder is starting to smart now! Grumptiville! 

Ah, well, I got the Health Checks done, the old sphygmomanometer is still working. But the SYS is still too high. I wonder why? (I sigh!)

The no-contact thermometer was used, and, I got the camera all ready, to snap it before it self-turned off.

Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on the boil, and took this blind-snap of Chestnut Walk in the dark, below the thick-framed, new windows, that is impossible for disabled folk to get to for cleaning, thick-framed and obviously designed by someone who suffers from a hatred for the elderly and gerontophobia.

Made the brew of the tasty Glengettie tea, took the medications and got on the computer. I last nights photographs to CorelDraw. I faffed about a bit, going from one thing to another again, but eventually got the Saturday blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Then Pinterested some snaps. Did some Facebooking, then went on the WordPress Reader. I found an email from Jenny, offering me some more yellow tomatoes, bless her cotton socks, she’s going to bring them down for me later today, bless her cotton socks. ♥

Time to get the ablutions sorted out, I took the mug to the kitchen and took a photo of the beautiful morning view, to compare with the earlier one.

Then, it dawned on me after I’d stripped to get the ablutions done. I’d not changed the timing on my time-pieces. So I did! I changed the clock in the kitchen, the wet room travel clock, the wall clock that fell of the wall and the casing broke, that is now balanced, resting on the fireplace top, but had a feeling I’d missed something, ah-well, not to fret.

So off I trotted (Trotted? Hahaha!) to the wet room, and had a marvellous session, mostly. There was nae bother from Toothache Thomas, and just three dropsies. The shaving had only two minor nicks, but several dropsies. The showering was the only blight of the session. I clouted the same wounded shoulder again, as I was coming up from retrieving the shower gel bottle (Six dropsies altogether in there). The showerhead escaped my clutches and landed on my overgrown painful already left big toe… Then bounced back up right into the cartilage-troubled right knees patella!

If I recall correctly, I silently mouthed something like “Tsk, never mind, can’t be helped!” (Yer!)

The doing of the medicationalisationing had only two incidents worth mentioning, I knocked several of the medications off of the floor cabinet, and clouted my head against the metal frame of the seat-raiser as I stretched with the picker-upperer, to retrieve the Germoloid and Savlon tubes. Gragnangles!

Got dressed and had a search around for the hat I went into the wet room wearing, I’m sure I did, but it’s never been seen since. More of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ They are working hard this morning!

I got the jammy-bottoms washed, all done, wrung and hung to dry, above the sink. Which proved later to be an idiotic thing to do, as I would need to use the sink while preparing Josie’s dinner! Crumpalisations!

The new pains in the left of the chest returned. I was surprised I noticed really, cause there are that many ailments having a go at me at the same time. The bruised arm, Duodenal Donald, the PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), The toenail on the left foot, and just started, Reflux Roger. Silver-Lining-Result-Search-Result: At least the others are being kind to me. Humph!

I got the fodder made up, it was not easy, because (Big mouth here) SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was kicking off, I was getting soaked each time I used the sink, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were letting me down. I was making more mess than ever before, and getting more het-up each time.

Still, Got it finished, it was just the thought of having to tackle all that was cleaning up afterwards that took the edge off what should have been my proud moment.

Pickled egg, silverskin onions, tomatoes, gherkins, sweet young carrots, anchovies, Tuna steak mixed with some balsamic vinegar and mayonnaise. And, of course, my world-famous, cheesy-mashed-spuds. I went the whole-hog today with them. New Zealand butter, sea salt, Squid vinegar, and parsley and black pepper, with just a drop of olive oil. I hope Josie likes them.

I got them delivered to her door, she asked what this and that was, and retired to feast on it (I hope). I got back in the kitchen and wondered who’d dropped the bomb, of course, the mess had been made by an army of contributors. Me, SSS, Nicodemus, Shaking Shaun and Saccades Sandra, to mention a few. Hehehe! But they didn’t help in cleaning up the picklement the kitchen was in, did they? Oh, no, that was left down to me. Swine!

As I had just got down on my knees to clean around the sink, where the dripping pyjamas had spilt over, and the door chimes rang out. At first, I thought it might be Josie with a problem or question, but no! I opened the door to see a wonderful sight! Jenny had been come up and delivered her treat for me, right outside the door; the yellow tomatoes. Double bless her! ♥ I don’t know how she got them so late in the year, but so appreciate her gesture. I got them in the fridge, ready to have later.

As I finished the cleaning up, Duodenal Donald doubled his determined damned pain giving efforts, and Dizzy Dennis returned. Tsk!

I got back on Computer Cameron to u[date this blog a little further. Then had a look for any new comments on WordPress. Two had come in, replied to them both.

Then went on the Sainsbury site, to increase my order for next Tuesday, of Chilli-con-carne. All done!

I visited the ‘Your Area’ latest newsletter.

Nosh prepping next, so weary suddenly. But it went well, but once again the various ailments meant me making a mess as I went along. Tsk!

Got the evening medications ready as I went along, and the plate of food served up. Not one of my tastiest efforts, but the Jenny supplied yellow tomatoes were great. I think maybe the Enoxaparin is playing tricks with my taste buds? Flavour rating: 6/10.

Got the pots in the sink to leave soaking. It’s the mess that the cheesy potatoes make yer know! I pretended to do some clearing up in the bomb-site (kitchen), but not a lot, in fact very little… well, hardly any!

The evening sky was worth a photo-taking, so I did.

None of the amazingly vivid colours of last night, but a blend of peaceful shades. And peaceful sounds good, and needed, to me!

Inchcockski – Sunday 4th October 2020: Worried

TFZer beauty, yeeha!

Sunday 4th October 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sul 4 Hydref 2020

0300hrs: By Jiminee, six-hours of Sweet Morpheousness! Good going that! If it wasn’t for the need of the Porcelain Throne, I might have had longer – cause the body and brain did not overly want or need to get up at all! Yes, dysania and clinomania (An excessive desire to remain in bed; morbid sleepiness) woke with me this morning!

But, as is usual, the urgency of a summoning calls to the Throne won the day. I rose hastily but carefully, from the c1968 recliner, caught my balance and with Duodenal Donald giving me some stabbing pains, I grabbed Metal Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick) and poddled stumblingly to the wet-room and the Throne.

I got down on the pew, and the actions started immediately, and stopped, and stuck seconds later! The handily placed crossword book and pen were reached for, (You can always tell a suffer from Constipation Konrad, by how close he or she keeps the crossword book, to the loo, Haha!). I believed there might be a possibility of my busting open in the rear quarters, and the painful pressure grew ever tighter, but no action yet. A few minutes later, when the innards controlled movement restarted, things moved that quickly, I hardly had time fo give an Argh! Or swear, before it was finished, with watery-thud.

It took a few seconds for me to recover my composure. Gawd, that was agony-at-speed! I investigated the evacuated product, as instructed by the hospital, and had to break things up a bit, to get it to down the hole. It took several hand-fillings of the tank and many flushes before it disappeared. Worra life!

Some bleeding, but I’m certain it was from the bashed up and squashed by the torpedo on its way out, Harold Haemorrhoids. I got a good clean up and medicated with the Germoloid ointment, I didn’t spare with it either. Got the things back on the toilet top, got the new PP’s on, and needed a wee-wee.

And what a wee-ee it was, another of the quixotic variety, of the OSUAD (Orange-Sprinkly-Unpainful-After-Dribble) type. And the AMD (After-Micturitional-Dribble) went on, and on, and… Washed the hands again, and off to the kitchenette.

I put the kettle on and got on with the Health Checks. The SYS was still a bit high, but it’s up and down all the time lately. I’d like to know how, every single time that any nurse or doctor takes my BP, it is always, it never changes, comes out as being within range! Humph!

The temperature on the stick thermometer had gone up a tad, which is a good thing, cause it had been too low for too long.

I’ve noticed that this morning, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters have been trying, sort of going online and off, quickly again. That’s my way of saying that Nicodemus is to blame for my dropping the stick thermometer on the floor. I thought, well that’s done it no good! Surprisingly after retrieving it with the use of the long picker-upperer, I tried it, and it was still working! See, a Silver Lining can usually be found, if one is prepared to lie and cheat a bit. Hahaha!

I took the medications, including the Macgrogol, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. I use a long skewer stick, to stir the tea with, and extract the teabag. I grabbed the bamboo stick, at the wrong, pointed end. The blood looked a decent rich red, not as deep at the haemorrhoids, mind. Hehehe!

I got the computer going, and thus began a journey encapsulating mistakes, errors, getting so confused and doolallying. The first thing was to create two templates—one for today and the other for Monday.

I uploaded yesterdays photos not done yet and spent hours cocking things up, and generally missing things off, and drifting into doing something else altogether, and getting back into some mock-form of semi-organisation… then drifted off of the plan again. Back to the computer.

I got the Saturday blog finalised, and sent off the email link.

On one of my ‘I don’t know how got onto searching the web, or what I am searching it for’ moments, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, joined Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, and Duodenal Donald, in making my life rather unpleasant, and uncomfortable. I decided I’d have a break, and look in the fridge and freezer to plan my lunch later, Josies was already sorted and written down. And I found that my plan to not bother with any chips, fries or potatoes, and use the Farls and potato cakes, had to be abandoned. Thanks to Morrison delivering short-dated products, like Farls and Potato cakes. Grrr! Grobbleskankles! 

I went through to make a brew, Glengettie Gold, this time, and take a sachet of Macrogol, I even took a swig of the Peptac. Not that I imagine anything would ease of Constipation Konrad or Duodenal Duncan until they departed of their own accord. The murky morning, still managed to look beautiful though.

The first shot, I took while hanging out of the kitchen window, while balancing on the step ladder! Such cunningly designed windows, obviously by window manufacturers and builders who suffer from gerascophobia, gerontophobia, or maybe gerascophobia? Anyway, I wouldn’t please them my falling out of the window! La-la-la- La-lala! Gits!

The second one, I took from the balcony, which also, plainly designed and fitted by window manufacturers and builders who suffer from gerascophobia, gerontophobia, or maybe gerascophobia? The finger trapping and cutting spring clip opener, where you have to push and pull at the same time to open or close the windows.

They have even been times when the newly fitted window fell off the fitments while a tenant in Winchester Court was opening her window – but that’s been kept quiet. So I won’t mention it… Whoops!

Back I trudged, to the computer work. Got the link emailed, went on the WordPress Reader, and did some Facebooking catch-up.

I checked on Amazon about the progress of the items ordered. A pair of slippers, some kitchen tools to make it easier to open bottles, ring-pull cans and jars (I’m not too sure they will work, but one has to try), and some yogourt covered cashew nuts. The delivery of the nuts and tools showed as being at the flats.

So, I took a look outside and saw a van arriving, it must be the delivery! I positioned myself close to the intercom, ready to answer and admit the driver. Sure enough, he came a couple of minutes later, I buzzed him in, thanked him, slipped him a can of G&T as a thank you, and opened the box to investigate.

I soon got into it and took a decker at the contents. Would they be acceptable, good and reliable, what I anticipated? No! The tools were worse than the ones I already have, no instructions, of course. Ah, well, they were cheap enough! The yoghourt covered cashew nuts, were 75% yoghourt, finding any bits of cashew, was a bonus. Hey-Ho!

I went on the Amazon tracker to check out the ETA of the slippers that I’d ordered might be arriving.

Judging by the time it took to get from when was dispatched, I’d guess about 18:00hrs they could get here. These are the same ones that I bought n August, well not the same ones, but the same type. They are so comfortable and cosy.

Back on the computer, Pinterested some snaps and started to update the Facebooking, and the landline burst into ringing and flashing. It was Sister Jane, she is not very well at the moment. She has, she thinks got, or suffering from cluster-headaches. Poor things, it was a case of one of use mentioning something and comparing it with the ills of the other of us. Hahaha! I’ll have a look-up on the web later for these headaches. Might ring her back in the morning if I fined owt that might help her cope better with them. I’ll send Jane all the bestest wishes possible! She’s not a woman who moans, bless her cotton socks! ♥♥♥ And Pete can do with a boost, the handsome beast him, with all his radiation treatments.

I had to hurry a tad, to get Josie’s dinner done in time, but yet again, I was on the button, at midday, at her door, ringing her bells!

I even wore the Chefs Hat that Jae bought me for Christmas last year! I took a selfie of the titfer, but somehow it came out in monochrome? Another camera cock-up from Inchcock!

Anyway, for the first time ever, I saw Josie laughing out loud when she opened the door and saw me! She had a feel of it (No, no, the Chefs Hat I mean!), and was amazed it was real, she thought it was a paper one. Hahaha!

I explained about the changes to her dinner plate to her. Smoked haddock, mackerel in sauce, and her cheesy mash being with different cheese cause I’d had any come from Morrisons this week. She retired to have her nibble, and I returned to have a wee-wee.

I washed, put the kettle on, and as the sunshine was coming through, I went on the balcony again, to take some photos of the grand, lucky-to-have views.

The top one was straight ahead, the bottom shot, I took from inside the pod. We’re luck really living here… I thought this as Herbert came to life above. Humph!

I’ll try to get another template made up now, with some busy days coming up next week, it can only help to get ahead if I can. Fingers crossed.

The Amazon slippers arrived, and I went down to meet the driver. Met Peggy, doing her laundry. Took the bag off of the deliveryman, and back up to the flat.

I went on Google and found an NHS site, covering cluster-headaches. A  place for advice, with Treatments and explanations, anyone who suffers with them would find it of some benefit, I hope. This is the link address: https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/cluster-headaches/ I sent the link to Jane and Pete and tried to phone them both to tell them, but got no answer.

I was worried about them, even more now. As I got the meal prepared, I tried several times to get through without any luck. In the kitchen, I got an answer, from Pete’s number; The line was terrible, and I could not understand most of what Pete said, he was only on for a minute or so. But the tone of his voice came through, something serious meant he could not talk to me at that moment. I’m scared stiff for them now. No concentration, Duodenal Donald kicked off again.

Got the nosh served up, I didn’t enjoy the meal, although I should have, it was one of my better efforts, but fretting over whatever Jane and Pete, I could not appreciate the food.

Got my bones in the recliner, and lay worrying, with Donald having a ball with the stomach. Until I can find out what’s happening, it will get no better. Sleep was impossible, tried until about 01:30hrs, and got up to do some cleaning-up, to try to calm down mentally.