Inchcocks Tuesday 31st May 2022 – With Ode

ODE to MEMORIES

♫ Memories are made of this… ♫

Memories I have of sweets costing a farthing!
Getting skin cancer through over-sunbathing,…
I had sex once when I was thirtysomething…
Being six, Mam ran away, and I learnt snogging,
Christine, her name, I was her plaything!

Skidmarks on my unwashed underclothing.
Trying my hand as a pugilist, boxing…
I never won a bout; I was constantly losing…
So tried the sports club amateur wrestling,
Just one fight, it left me frothing and bleeding,

Years later, I tried my hand at WordPressing,
Got dementia. It is very depressing…
Worked in security, tried a spot of sleuthing,
Caught a crook once; he was very scathing,
He was found not guilty; I was seething!

I went undercover pretending to be birdwatching…
Dressed in camouflage, green and brown clothing…
Binoculars to hand, RT and truncheon packing…
Fell out of the tree as I suspect, watching…
Lost my job; it was gutwrenching!

Realising how bad I was at odes & blogging,
When I was getting on a bit, seventysomething,
I had a period of deep thoughts and soulsearching,
Seeking whatever, a reason to carry on trying…
Now I’m approaching the time for dying…
Oddly enough, there’s no crying, just a bit of sighing!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

TUESDAY 31st MAY 2022

05:10hrs: After yet another horrendous night of shooting awake, nodding off and bursting back into ersatz life, I gave up; I needed a wee-wee, anyway. But that in itself was a nightmare… well, morning mare!

The regular of late, trickling, waiting and whistling, was followed by an even more extended period of dribbling! At least by taking my time and making sure that things had stopped, I avoided any splashing of the furniture, carpet or my body parts.

I started the sphygmomanometerisationing. BP first, with satisfactory results, as you can see here on the left. A smidge high, but nothing compared to many of last week’s figures for the SYS, at 149, DIA 74, and Pulse 78bpm. Very good! The Chinese (Hong Kong) was built by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was still showing low. Compared to the target set by the hospital, of 35°c, at 33.7°c. But no worries!

I made up a waste bag and then went to the wet room to check out the feet and ankles that I found affecting my balance and hurting me a smidgeon.

I dug out yesterday’s photo of the pins to compare it with today’s (top).

Quite a change? The DVT and old ankle blotch had gone all artistic and more pronounced. Which is what the pains did as the day developed. They have not been this bad for months? Then I got the kettle on but didn’t get to make a brew as the innards summoned me back to the wet room.

Once again, the motion was reluctant to start moving. So, I had a go at the crossword book, a different one, as the previous one had got me struggling. Got a couple of answers in, and the sludge started coming! I can’t recall ever having a more gooey sticky, pongy evacuation than this was! Half a new toilet roll later, I started the mammoth task of cleaning up. Had a wash, got dressed, and went back to the kitchenette.

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana, and got some photos uploaded to CorelDraw, then the computer. Got the Monday blog updated; it took me a long time. During which the feet started stinging even when I was sat down. What’s going off down there?

Carer Richard arrived. The lad didn’t look too good. So I launched some humour at him, to which he responded well. As he got the medications to me, the poor chap started sneezing and coughing, and he was sweating so much! Not that that stopped him for long, he even showed me how to get the Grammarly extension, not to give corrections for sentence building. Unfortunately, it stopped Grammarly from working at all! Hehehe! I laughed because we got it back on and laughed about it. (Phew!) Richard didn’t look any better when he departed, but I think he was a little happier. I hope he is not coming down with any illness. Fingers crossed that he’ll be back tomorrow and feeling better. I got the Monday blog post done last, and the Morrison delivery arrived.

The delivery person brought up the flowers first, so he didn’t damage them, and he went down to the other bags; that was kind of him. These are for the Wardens. He fetched the different parcels, and I got them into the kitchen.

Got the things stored away. There is no frozen today; the freezer would struggle to get a biro or single fruit gum in. At least I got some of the battered chips, not the ones I wanted, but the last ones tasted nice enough. They substituted for battered onions with a tray of mashed turnips? Still, they’ll do for me. The bananas almost made me feel guilty! They looked like a set of parents with their children. Alright, so I’m a little weird at times! It has to be admitted, I fear. My travel into loony-land is taking on a little speed lately. Hehehe!

Cleaner Esther arrived. Talking all the time, picking fault with me not getting out for some exercise… then she took the laundry down to get done. I missed most of what she said. But, I did pick up on my ordering too much food. I’ve long stopped bothering to explain things to her. Hehehe!

I took Morrison’s Amazon food delivery wrappers to the waste chute. The fire door was wedged open into and from the flat’s lobby area. Some work of some sort was taking place. The lighting of some sort, I believe.

I limped (the flipping feet are getting even more painful now?) down through the lift lobby and to the waste room door at the end to the left.

I partly trapped my knuckle in the cast iron lid as I shoved the bags into the chute. Nothing new; I’m becoming something of an expert in doing this!

Back to the flat lobby and through into 72 Woodthorpe Court single apartment. Well, I would; I live there. Hahaha! I may be losing it again here?

I got some Facebooking done and the WordPress reading. Later, got the oven warming up for the nosh, specifically the battered chips.

Esther returned with the washing, all done. Oh, the tongue lashing I suffered. I’ve no idea what they were about, mind you. But they flowed at me without relenting or relaxing for a good few minutes. Deafness can have its advantages. Hehe!

I’ll get the meal started, and then, if I don’t fall asleep, try to get the top Ode-making started. Got the beer-battered chips in the oven and got some WordPress comments answered, then went to check the ovens in the chips… or even the chips in the oven.

Enjoyed this plateful immensely. Especially the beer-battered chips. And soft bloomer sliced bread.

A Taste-rating of 8/10 was given. Then, as I had failed to get any desserts with the food order (my fault, Doreen Dementia’s), I guiltily had one of the baby bananas. You can see how small they were here. Tasty lovely. I’m not sure, but I might have heard it crying as I bit into it! Hahaha!

Washed the pots up. And then proceeded to drop the washing-up liquid bottle to the floor via my right toes. What a mess! Got it sorted out and just finished it.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and in came the Evening Carer. Well, Carers, mob-handed. Hehehe! They got the medications sorted, and we had a three-way natter for a couple of minutes, and off they went. Bless ’em.

I got the TV turned on, and there was no reception at all? Mayhaps the electricians, needed to turn off some connection to get done whatever they were doing? So, I put in a Heartbeat DVD to watch. The message came up No DVD inserted! Oh!

I reset the Freeview system. But only a third at most of the channels were loaded, and all West Midlands? So, reset again, picking the ‘All’ option. This time it came up and seemed to be working. But the DVD wasn’t having it! Humph!

I could see the sky’s colour changing through the paper-thin curtains. And nipped out to take a photo of the unique cloud and sky colouring. Not the brightest I’ve seen by a long shot, but I thought it was an awe-inspiring bit of nature.

Fifteen minutes later, the glow of the sun’s setting permeated the room, and I hobbled into the kitchenette. To take this picture. Another masterpiece of nature. I’m so glad I didn’t fall asleep now. But soo regretted thinking this.

The sixth night on the trot of being unable to get to sleep. Couldn’t read a book, thanks to cataracts, glaucoma and saccades. Put the TV on but could not hear it or read the subtitles easily. But kept springing awake again, seemingly every five minutes or so. After perhaps twenty jump-awakes on the 21st, I gave up and rose onto my feet for a wee-wee. It was hard work and well gone midnight before I drifted off…

Morning all!

Inchcock Diary & Odes, Fri 27th May 2022

Diary & Odes

Blotchy-Faced?

INCHIES MORNING ODE

I looked in the mirror last night; a terrible sight!
It was as if I’d been battered in a fistfight,
Blotches, pale eyes, a depression, it did incite…
How do I get into this mentally-inspired plight?
The physical ailments, I’m coping with them alright…
Although some of them can at times be a fight…
Cataracts, neuropathy, deaf, etc. have ruined my rike,
I’ve no confidence left; I feel like a troglodyte!

Was my being born an accident or oversight?
Mother ran away, was the start of my many a fike…
In social interactions, at 76, I’m still a neophyte…
Which doesn’t explain why my eyes and skin are so white?
The red patches remind me of the pox and bryophyte…
But I’m going to stop worrying… well, I might…
Things come to me, ailments, fears and many a blight…
What future I’ve left is not looking too bright!

I need to do something, like mind-defragging,
Free the tension, keep the tongues from wagging,
Cause it’s no use hiding and camouflaging…
My failures, incompetency and my not belonging!
My faults in the future, I’ll be acknowledging,
I’ll start with cutting out the foul language and effing…
Cut down my time blogging and cybersurfing!
From overeating, I’ll start abstaining,
Why do all that, you may be asking?
I can’t remember now, and that’s alarming!

YOU CAN TELL HE IS CHEERING UP A BIT, CAN’T YOU

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Friday 27th May

04:30hrs: I woke with the usual jump but soon regained all possible control (Which was not a lot) of my brain. And responded niftily to the call from Bladder Blair for a wee-wee.

Washed and made a brew of Thompsons’ Signature tea. Got on the computer and started to get the photos on.

These on the right are from last evening after I’d got the nosh consumed and settled down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

But I kept getting up again to photograph the sky.

Resettled but dozed for half an hour and shot wide awake again. Humph!

And the glow from the sky was coming through the curtain. I just had to, and I did, get up yet again to take these three pictures on the left of the evening late sunsetting.

These were a lot more colourful than the earlier ones.

The first one I took and made was while making a brew of Glengettie tea. By the time I’d made the mug, the rain had stopped, and the whole sky had changed colour with some interesting orange-hued puffer clouds near the horizon.

Mother nature never seems to stop amazing me.

I started to update the Wednesday/Thursday blog. Then within minutes, I had to return to the wet room, in need of the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!

A messy Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation again, but not as bad as yesterday. Not one of my better ones! I opted to get the ablutions done while I was in there.

The teeth bled; I dropped the razor and banged my shoulder on the sink, bending down to retrieve it. Then proceeded to give me several cuts shaving, under the chin, the ear-hole, and…wait for this… my left index finger! Then as I looked in the shaving mirror as I was cleaning it, I saw the blotches all over my face! Worra state! And the eye sockets looked proper pink?

Carer Valerie arrived. She got the medications sorted out, and we managed a little natter between us. And Val took the laundry with her and the waste bag, saying as Arni did… “I’ll be back!” Hehe!

I went back onto the blog and got it finished and posted off. Pinterested some photos and got on Facebook catch-up.

Then the Amazon Morrison order arrived. A lovely foreign lady, polite and sociable gal, bless her cotton socks. Three items were out of stock. And the onion chips were substituted with curry chips. Not sure that I will be keen on them, but, you never know, they might taste alright for me. At least I got the red potato fritters and one of the three battered chips I wanted.

Then, I got the things sorted and stored. There didn’t seem much to go in the freezer, which was just as well cause there was no room in the drawers anyway. I did get a loaf of bread in.

The fridge didn’t look anywhere as near full as usual after a delivery? Was I getting good and ordering less?

Well, no, not really. Why the heck I ordered a packet of Thompson’s Signature tea bags? I don’t know. I’ve got six packages of Thompson’s Punjana, two of J Sainsbury Red label extra strong, and a box of Glengettie in stock already? Oh, and a bix of Co-op 99 as well!

I got the flower treats that should have been coming on Monday for today. My EQ told me to. There will be something occurring on Monday medically, mayhaps, he tells me? I rang Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell her they were here, and when she came later, she kindly took a bunch to Francis for me. I can’t recall their names, but there were two different types. She had a choice of whichever she fancied.

I returned to finish off the Facebooking and then comments on WordPress. I got a call from my precious Hristina, the Warfarin DVT blood nurse; she will be calling twixt 10-1200hrs on Monday for the following test sample. I added it to the Google calendar. Got the Blood Pressure figured out. A bit high this morning. But this does happen now and then; it may have been with me hearing Hristina’s voice?

The body temperature was low, but nowt to worry about.

Carer Valerie returned the laundry for me. Thanked her, and off she went. I visited the junk room to hang the clothes. I was disappointed in the state of the jammie bottoms, all creased up, one leg inside out. One long-sleeved tee shirt was the same with the arms. The trousers were crunched up and creased. I must try to get Meridian to stop doing the washing for me… and paying them!

The tap tapping and noises that sounded like something metal-like being dropped kicked off. Still, he’s been quiet up till now.

Made an order for Iceland next week. Then got the nosh sorted. Oh, Boy, were those curried potato chips tasty! Yes, they were! Buttered mushroom pate sarnies, gherkins, red and orange tomatoes. A banana to follow and a worthy 8.3/10 for taste! Lovely!

I got settled to await the arrival of the evening carer, who was a smidge late, not that it mattered. I started to watch a Heartbeat episode, and every few minutes, I’d nod off for a couple of minutes, wake up, and off again. Most aggranoying, as I’d not seen this episode before. Tsk!

The evening carer arrived, medicated me, and asked if the laundry was ready to collect. I said that Valerie had done it this morning. A nibble and can of plonk were selected, and she took the waste bag with her.

Locked the door and got settled to watch the second episode of Heartbeat on the box. But, No! I kept nodding off again and shooting awake after a few minutes, only to drift off again and repeat the procedure?

Somehow I did manage to nod off, but it was hours later.

My much blotchy pot-marked face,
A sign of age, rotting and decays?
To be expected, I think nowadays…
Like wee-weeing in spurts and sprays.
Or losing memories that fade and stray…
Along with confusing, baffling thought waves…
Needing a kip each day, before midday…
Recalling when one was alive, in one’s heyday,
You’re looking towards the next pension day,
Coping with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley…
Deaf, cataracts, depression Monday to Sunday…

My excrescences, give me haute couture,
If that’s the word, I’m not really sure…
I wonder if the Tate would make a sculpture?
I’d like to be a giver, cheerer-upperer, enricher…
Or an MP, maybe even a frontbencher?
Perhaps best, if I stay as this demented old failure,
Although I’m sadly an incompetent botcher…
A harmless old fart who’s into pareidolia…
Awaiting St Peter’s greeting as he says, ‘Gotcha!’
Possibly, my brain may have caught paranoia?

Trying is the first step toward failure!

Inchcock Photographs & Odes: Wed-Thur 26-27th May 2022

WEDNESDAY 26th MAY 2022

Well, the lower legs are looking betterer?

The blood taking hole is standing up well. Hehe!

BP is fine again.

♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain… ♫
♫ Telling me just what a fool I’ve been… ♫

My bad luck, or lack of good fortune, continues!

A simple nosh made for a simpleton,
Who knows not what is a sextillion…
Who passes wind, and creates a septon,
Dementia has made his brain wanton…
Yet had a dream, a hope and a premonition…
One day he’ll write a daily newspaper’s feuilleton,
But he’s too old now, this bald, retarded Briton…
He still cooks, nowt fancy like venison or a wonton,

I’ve waffled again, then again, and so did Byron?
I’ll try summat daring – like eating a persimmon!
I’m mentally decaying, needing a psychosurgeon?
Desperate to be seen by a neurosurgeon…
To be honest, I’d take from any chirurgeon!
Even if it helped just as smidgeon…
To slow down my deteriorating condition!

Evening carer has been, all shattered, but mentally okay,
Of course, there was no chance of it staying this way…
Control of my grey-cells thinking seems so far away…
No matter what I try, the confusion’s here to stay…
Of course, I’ve tried for help; I often pray,
But there’s no chance of improvement, I daresay…
Just have to hope tomorrow is a better day…

Lost the plot on this Ode; I don’t need to be told,
My mind refuses to be controlled…
I’ve no virtues of being extolled…
I’m not feeling very bold…
Problems that need to be resolved?
Why has my good-luck gland never evolved?
Why have I never won a gold?
No wonder my hopes have dissolved!

You may think this diary is so short on content and reckon I’d lost the reminder pad, and I spent hours searching for it and couldn’t find it anywhere? Panicked and faffed about, stubbing my toe and using naughty language as I built up my hatred for Vascular Dementia Doreen?

This guesstimate or thought would be Spot-On!

THURSDAY 26th MAY 2022

Cor blimey, and luv-a-duck! What a fantastic kip I had last night! I reckon I’d had about seven uninterrupted hours with Sweet Morpheus! I stirred back into pretending life around 0535hrs.

Of course, with not getting up repeatedly for a wee-wee, I was in a desperate need within seconds of waking up. The trip to the bucket was interrupted by a new requirement – the Porcelain Throne.

The lower back pain kicked off as I turned with metal Mickey in hand to divert to the wet room. In the hallway, dang it! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back online, and the leg flailed… straight into the edge of the doorframe, acquiring a rather nasty toe-stubbing to add to my slowly increasing collections of morning pains!

And what a messy session it turned out to be! Despite waiting many minutes for the motion to start and having a failed attempt at getting any clues answered on the crossword that I’ve now been doing on the throne for over a week, there were no indications of any progress. So, I started counting the new veins that had come upon the leg. Having worked out that only two new ones had come up and felt for sure at least five had gone down, I was considering going into a Smug-Mode…

Then, the… well, an explosion is the only word to describe it – the evacuated product burst out in some haste, and I could feel the splashes rebounding back up to my bottom and gentleman’s tackle storage area. What a mess the Throne and I ended up in! So, I set to cleaning and freshening things and me up in the wet room. I was caught out, right and proper, by Trotsky Terence’s reappearance after a few days. Humph!

All spick and span again, and feeling a smidgeon proud of how I handled the unfortunate evacuation, I departed the wet room on my way to treat myself to a mug of tea. And clouted my shoulder on the doorframe, setting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off jigging all over the place in her effort to dislodge the shoulder bone, I think!

MedPhorpainNeedless to say, I was a little pee’d off now. I took a painkiller with the tea and rubbed some Phorpain Gel well into Shirley’s shoulder where I could reach. I felt sorry for myself, and I reflected on who was really to blame. Doreen’s Dementia, Nichodemuses Neurotransmitter, Neuropathy Pete, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys, and me! So many options came to mind that I decided all of these were at fault or the causes of my morning’s dilemmas.

I took a snap of the view from the kitchen window. Although it may have been from yesterday now, I think of it. Dementia Doreen is not easy to live with.

I got on the computer to finalise and post the local News Snippets blog. I pressed on regardless, and I lost a lot of time changing the central Ode. Why? I forget why I thought it was a good idea. The original and one I ended posting were both crap, anyway! But then, I’m good at crap. Consistently, I reliably churn it out.

I went to make another brew, determined to get this one drunk! The red sky reminded me of the old saying, “Red Sky at Night, Shepherds delight!” By the time I’d taken the pictures, the red sky had gone.

When I checked the photos on the camera, I was not impressed at all. But of course, with Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra lingering, what would I know. Hehehe!

Ah, when I got these on later, they looked so different in the Preview window than on this editor that I’m using.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came two carers. They were not listening types; both were supervisory. It is my fault for talking to them when they sorted out the paperwork. I must stop doing that!

I went into the balcony, opened the end window, and took this shot of the Chestnut Way end car park… Trapping my finger in the spring lock as I close the window afterwards. Tsk!

I’d anticipated Richard coming today. My grasp on actuality had gone away. One of them had returned to the fold, and I was ready to listen to my tale of the potato husks that I’d left in the oven for eight hours overnight. I’d kept them to show to Richard, but they got a laugh out these gals when I showed them to them. Haha!

I got on with the updating and posted it to WordPress. Had a while on Facebook Catchup. Then made a start on the first Ode for this one.

Blimus! It was gone midday in no time!

I must get the WP comments to read and answer. Then I read the WordPress Reader new blogs and commented on them.

The Evening Carer will be due soon, Valerie, I hope. I’m going to get my wash and change into the night attire now, TTFNski. The ankles were a bit blotchy again? The INR being high?

A can of the veg chilli-con-carne, baked some chunked potatoes, last of the Milk Roll bread, and a pot of weak watery Morrison’s Honey flavoured yoghourt. I enjoyed it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

Arrived after I’d washed the pots up. Forget the Carer’s name again, nice gal.

I got down to kip, but the notable changes in the evening sky forced me to keep getting up to take photographs of the views. I’ll put them on Friday’s blog; hopefully, the SD reader will be working better then.

Sleep was a long time in coming. But that was my fault for me keeping getting up several times to photograph the changing sky.

Ode To Hope

Every time I think things may improve, I suffer a forfeiture,
For being foolish enough to be a self-deluder?
Of course, existence will just get crappier,
Anyway, if things went right, would I be happier?
Good fortune for me; it would be so unfamiliar…
No doubt it would make me feel guilty and peculiar?
I’d probably go into shock and have a stroke or seizure…
Not to worry, I’ll take my tablets and a gulp of tincture!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Diary, Tuesday 24th May 2022 – With Ode to Life

TUESDAY 24th MAY 2022

Ode To Life – Part 33rds

I’d have loved to have written my verse cleverly…
Be intelligent, superior, educated, and academically!
Blend words in rhyme that folk view as appreciatory,
But Doreen’s Dementia makes me do it clumsily…
Not that the comments sound exactly derogatory…
My viewers’ total is abysmal, or worse, evidently,

I try not to write this blog grouchily…
Make it fun, folks, to read it happily…
I may, at times, add things that sound grumpy,
That’ll be of Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy,
Though sometimes, to me, the reality is illusory…
And I’ve never ever won the lottery!

Like now, my plots and thoughts have gone hazy?
This can happen for days at a time, not momentarily,
Semi-logic can return, within a few days, ordinarily,
But of course, please remember this is not obligatory,
During my brain’s down-times, there’s still diversity…
Trying to control it brings much lachrymosity!

I often dream of acquiring omnipotency…
Of course, I can’t, so carry in my impecuniosity…
It’s not just money & wealth, of which I have a scarcity!
But also suasion, wisdom, rationality, logicality…
Folks tell me, I have endless inconsequentiality?
I think this is similar to insignificance or banality?
No doubt, I need help mentally… and exigently!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

TUESDAY MORNING

04:35: Rose for a wee-wee. Kettle on, sorted waste bags. Had a rinse, got partly dressed, and got the kettle on.

Getting dressed, I thought it looked like the right leg’s foot was darker than the left leg? But mustn’t complain, cause the rest of the leg and ankle looked far better than yesterday!

Took off the pad from yesterday’s INR Warfarin blood test and could not help bus picture my beautiful, precious, and pretty beloved Haematology nurse Hristina in my mind! ♥

Sphygmomanometerisationing was done next. The SYS was up 26 points to 140, DIA up by 2 to 63, and the Pulse had fallen somewhat to 77. Checked on the NHS site; The Ideal is between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm). That means it must have been high spot on, indeed perfect, for several weeks. The body temperature was well down again, low for several days; according to the NHS, 35°c is the optimum?

I got on the computer, and my brain froze. What I was doing, I had no idea, really. This has happened now and then since the stroke. It can often last for a few hours, like waking up, but with no memory of the period of blankness. I named them Mind-Blanks. Then you worry about what you’ve been getting up to! It only lasted about an hour or so, I think. It seemed that I had started another blog template and been working on the wrong one. I really got annoyed when I discovered this! I swore at myself, and I wanted to give up!

Richard the Carer arrived, and it helped pull me around. Not that I wasn’t still a little miffed ant the Mind-Blank happening. Even though it hasn’t happened for a week or two. I think? Rich’ got the Alert Alarm battery checked and gave me my medications. As we had a much-missed chinwagging session, I went to put the mini-hoover back on its charger and…

As I was bent down to reach the socket, Neuropathy Pete instructed his neurotransmitters to give me a flailing leg dance! I dropped the mini-hoover (I hope I’ve not broken anything), and I clung dearly to the electric shelf. It was all over within a few minutes, and no rumblings or injuries. That was due to Carer Richard’s quick response in getting to me in time. I’m pretty sure (although it was a short affair, it was brutal while it lasted) that it would have had me over had I been on my own.

Two cameras, a remote, and the SDH card reader have given up on me in the last few days. Mind-Blanks, Leg Dances, Dizzies, Falls and tumbles are getting more frequent. Doreen’s Dementia, Cataracts Kathleen, and Glaucoma Gladys have all been having a go at me!  Best if I say no more on the subject, methinks!

Took this snap of the rain, made a brew, and pressed on, trying to get the mess I’d made on WordPress understood and corrected; it was hard work that needed concentration. But, it went well for about two hours, progress-wise, and then Esther came bundling in to get the laundry. That shot my attention to pieces.

I began to make progress again. Esther returned with the laundry. Boy, can she talk? Hehe! Unfortunately, she does it when walking away from me and in the other room. Not the foggiest of what she’s saying half the time.

Well, I’ve got to get a rest. I’ll make some canned tomatoes and soya and use the old bread. After that, I can envisage myself just falling asleep until the evening carer wakes me up… there are about four hours in which I can make, eat the meal and some precious sleep… if that is possible.

Extra-chopped tomatoes with pieces of soya. And some slices of milk roll bread… well, half the loaf! Gobbled it up at my leisure slowly and enjoyed it. The Flavour rating for this one was 7.5/10! Washed the pots and was soon in the land of nod. Dream filled, though. No details are recalled, yet I still know that I had dreams?

An hour or so later, Evening Care Valerie arrived, and the shock of the chime bursting out and waking me shook me a bit… at first, I thought I was still in my dream. Hehehe! As I stirred and Valerie came, I realised that although I had got my jammie bottoms on, I was topless this time. Still, she didn’t mind my bulbous, adipose, abdominous, podgy paunch that bounced around in front of me when I stood up. Humph! Val got me sorted out, and I handed her some nibbles in thanks, and off she trotted, kindly taking the waste bag from the door with her for me.

I considered staying up to get on with this blog, but with all the cock-ups and mistakes I’d made earlier in the day, I decided to get back down in the c1968 second-hand recliner and get back to whatever the dream was about. And I did!

Ten minutes later, ♫Oh, Susana♫ rang from the door chime again. I whipped a jacket on quickly and went to open the door – It was Valerie back again.

She had gone back to the Meridian Office and found a letter from the DVT Anticoagulation Clinic changing the Warfarin dosages. Bless her, she realised she’d just given me the wrong dosage earlier and returned to give me more to agree with the new dosage roster. This should have been provided by whoever was in charge (surely?) to the night carer? But it had been left on the desk. Fortunately, the new dosages had increased, and Valerie gave me the extra tablet to put things right for me.

The thought was that had Val not found this new rota or the doses had gone down, not up, it would have been too late, and it meant I could be in a pickle medically if I had a bleed and an increased risk of a heart attack, blood-clot, and or stroke. Methinks Meridian, who has just put their prices up, has made a mistake. Be interesting to see if I get an apology this time. Valerie saved the day, anyway!

EMBARRASSMENT! As I was taking the Warfarin tablet, it dawned on me – I did not have my jammie bottoms on! I red-facedly thanked Val, and she shot off, Bless her cotton socks!

Back in the recliner…

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odeing

Brief Diary – with Boringly Long Ode…

One hell of a Messy Day!

Friday 13th May 2022

I reluctantly woke at 05:30hrs, and after a few minutes of determinate efforts to nod off again, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I was cruelly forced to get up!

I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But was not too keen on how the Porcelain Throne evacuation went. Trotsky Terence had a more significant say in things. Thus it was messy and a semi-splurting affair. Needing a lot of cleaning up doing after the event.

I decided to get a stand-up wash, teeth, medicationing and shave, etc. done as I was there. The shaving well, well, one… just one nick on the chin. (The teeth cleaning I forgot to do, I did it later when I remembered).

Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur Itis knees, Colin Cramps’ hands and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all medicated. I got dressed, thinking the Carer may soon be here.

Turned on the computer…

Boy, was I pissed off? YES, I was! Grrr! The thoughts of Liberty-Gobal’s Mr Fries getting so much salary and bonuses, and he can’t get an internet signal to work in Nottingham…

DOWN AGAIN

I turned everything off, leaving it for ten or fifteen minutes. Unplugged the lot. Then restarted the hub and, five minutes later computer. Gave it longer to sort itself out and into the kitchenette Humph! Stubbing my toe on the way against the server trolley wheel.

This is not going to be as short a dairy as I planned. My EQ had spoken, “Be prepared for a messy day! So I did!

From the depths of despair, I rose into flabberghastedness! Not only did the internet start, but when I slipped in the SD card – it worked the first time!!! So I got these photos from yesterday loaded to put on here. I didn’t get too excited, though, after I found that some were refused as ‘wrong format’, which they are not; I levelled off my mental state down to ‘Ah, well, I knew summat else would knacker things up!’ mode.

The first two are from the Health Checks, and the results were not too bad either. I’ve had much worse this week.

Oh, dear, now I’ve had to stop. Frustration, self-derogatory tongue lashings and self-hating had to have a few minutes with me! I realised I’d already put these on yesterday’s blog. Of course, I should have been blaming Dementia Doreen! But having to live with her, I didn’t want to make her angry with me! Hehehe! Good job that I didn’t lose more time and recognised that I’d posted them. But definitely, positively, no Smug-Mode was deserved!

When I made a brew and took this photo while doing so. The morning weather was how I felt, a smidge down, dank and not too hopeful. Hey-Ho! Hello, another trip to the Porcelain Throne was indicated…

2 So, off for the second visit of the day. Trotsky Terence was in even more control this time. The liquidifation of things was more advanced, which meant less need and time for cleaning up my delicate areas on the plus side! I used the minus side, which saved time cleaning up the splashed and liquid ricochets.

I took a photograph of the Winwood Heights, Chestnut Way, end car park. I was most concerned not to see RVM (Red-Van-Mans’) van parked on the yellow chevrons. In fact, I could not see it anywhere. He’ll be out at an AA meeting, his probation officer or visiting his mates in prison, mayhaps? Hehehe! Only joking! He’ll be working somewhere.

I pressed on with updating yesterday’s blog. Eventually, getting it done and posted. When I went to get a drink of spring water, I realised that it was beyond 09:00hrs. And no Carer had called yet. I’ll give them a little longer; usually, someone rings if they will be late?

I’m getting fed up with this – Haha! 3: I moved on to Facebooking the blog, went on the TFZer and Winwood Heights pages, read, and replied to some comments. After about an hour… back to the throne. The evacuated product was of a similar nature to the last visit. The jets of liquid were far more powerful… thus messy and needed cleaning again.

I got the bags into the kitchenette, ready to sort them out. I made a start on this blog, it was slow going, Doreen, and the brain’s concentration made things difficult for me. Then, the intercom rang forth and flashed. It was the Amazon shopper delivering my order. He even brought up the flowers first so that the bunches didn’t get crushed. Then he brought the rest up. Bless him.

I go the flower treats put safely stored from crushing, firstly. Today, the treats are for Deana, Julie and Jenny. I rang Jenny to see which one she fancied. Jenny opted for the centre bouquet.

The pink one. At least, I think the first two are pink. They’ve gone now, and I can’t remember the names, Tsk! Oh, yes, I can, one of them, the left one, Chrysanthemums! Sad, innit? My being colour blind and not a new thing that isn’t.

Around 1963 I failed a medical for a job on British Rail as a goods train guard. I found out that I suffered from protanopia – basically, I cannot identify reds from other close colours, orange, maroon etc. Then a couple of years ago, they told me I now (then) had dichromatism, having trouble identifying primary reds, greens and blues. Now I’d acquired Saccades in the right eye and glaucoma and cataracts. See what I mean? Hahaha!

Oh, heckythump, was I waffling on there! Sorry. Back to the diary…

I got the frozen things away. Vegetable burgers, iced orange lollies, potato bakes, potato bites and potato croquettes. I was pretty pleased with how I conjured around the stuff in the freezer to make room for the new stuff.

Then the fridge products, not many today, I intend to use up some of the canned foods. (We’ll see?). Tomatoes, sugar snap peas, mushroom pates, veg sausages, strawberry & grape pots to treats, that’s about it. Ah, no, well, yer see… I suppose you do… Those fresh cream French Horns? I blame one of my sweethearts on the TFZer Facebook page; I have a few. She just loves fresh cream French Horns, and when I eat one, it reminds me of Janet.

Janet and me in the photo here… in a dream I had! ♥ I’m off waffling again!

Cans of Chilli-Con-Carne, pots of jelly & custard, potatoes, fries, vegetable stock, tomato puree with herbs, a lemon, five bananas, a bottle of orange cordial, and a can of chilli soup make up the rest of the the the items purchased.

I got the fodder all stored away (The cupboards and freezer are close to cram-packed now). Then back on the blogging for an hour or two. Suddenly it dawned on me… nearly midday, and no Carer had arrived? I called Warden and Ballerina Julie and or Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell them the flowers are ready for collecting; if they can manage it. Julie answered and said she would come up to see me. I can mention the Carer missing again when she comes.

After making the call, I began to fear that I may have made an error. I was confused, and Dementia Doreen was making me fret; someone had called? I checked on the Meridian call register but could not read it with my eyes… I feared that if I say owt, and it turns out they have already been… I’m going to be regarded as a plonker of the first order? I took some faith that I was shaking a lot more than usual. The last time they failed to show, I’d gone so long without the medications; I got the shakes when they arrived. And boy, was I beginning to shake now! Yes, I was!

Back to my blogging, this is taking far too long. Interruptions of various sorts, and now Herbert had kicked off with his tap-tapping. He didn’t go on for too long. Oh, I think he just dropped something metallic, then!

Warden & ballerina Julie came in. I asked her if she would please take the flowers for Jenny, as I was expecting a delivery and call from the hospital, and she kindly agreed. I mentioned that I don’t think a Carer has been, and she said I was shaking and shuddering. Julie checked the Meridian log and said no one had been. She would mention it to them when she got back to the office. I thanked her, and off she trotted.

It then dawned on me why I’d ordered so much stuff for the freezer. Last week Richard said he would sort the dates of everything in the fridge and freezer for me. I knew I had some meat products I did not want and hoped that Richard would take them off my hands. So there will be plenty of room to get today’s stuff in it. But Richard had another call, and the lad was knackered from his shift yesterday and could sort the freezer for me. Hope he feels better and gets a good break. I’ll miss the lad, but glad he’s got a holiday to recover from his exhaustion.

I started blogging again, and someone from Meridian called me on the landline. She said they were very sorry about this morning, and a Carer is on their way to me now. I said thank you. Shame it had to happen for the seventh time since I’ve been paying them to come. Obviously, Julie had told them for me. Hey-ho, and pickle my walnuts!

Carer Valerie came into the flat, and she got my medications given. She asked me what happened with the morning’s Carer. I said I’ve no idea. Valerie said about me shaking a bit. I thought it had stopped, but apparently not. There is constantly shaking of some sort with Peripheral Neuropathy, but it was more violent this time and uncontrollable now. Thanked Val, and off she trotted. Within half an hour of taking the medicines, I think the shaking was back to normal.

I’m struggling to get the blog updated now. The concentration has been destroyed by all the complications of the day. I took the comfort of some sort in knowing things should calm down now… Did I say that?…

I got a text message, “Feet today!” reminder came in: The foot lady at the hairdressing salon told me it’s my day to have the feet done! Argh! No time to get nowt done!

4 Then it really irritated me that I needed Porcelain Throne visit number four! Just when I didn’t need it, I’m not going to be popular for keeping them waiting when I get down to the salon… mind you, I don’t expect I was before. Hehe! The evacuation was more liquified this time, but it was over quickly.

So, I fumbled and bumbled about again, and I got myself down to the ground floor salon. The looks I was greeted with said, “Oh, here it is, about time too!” They got the feet tended to, not without the odd ‘Argh’ emitting from my lips. I paid the £25, not cheap for getting one’s toenails done, but some other options are dearer. It’s terrible enough forgetting things, but then I gave my toe a stubbing against the airer as I went to get a quick wash. She gave me an appointment card, and I gave out some cans of treats. Then hastened ASAP back to the flat, fearing I may have missed the hospital’s call… Ain’t life a git some days? Well, most in my case!

Tried to get the blogging update advanced, and Valerie (the whisperer) came in the room, apparently talking to me as I typed away on the blog. Of course, I couldn’t hear her. She was returning the laundry. Treated to a little pack of grapes and strawberries. Bless her.

I put the oven on and, got some chilli on the pan, added some spirit vinegar to it and some peas. I’ve been assured that the spirit vinegar will lessen the sharpness of the chilli. After adding the peas and getting the hob going, I took a nibble. And it works! Yee-Haa!

17:15hrs The Evening Carer arrived. The morning caller was 7 hours late, and the evening one was an hour early. They must be having problems. However, the evening medications are mostly Warfarin blood thinners, Lansoprozole for Duodenal Donald, Codeine & Paracetamol pain killer, Ramipril, Peptic Antacid, and Atorvastatin Cholesterol inhibitor. The Folfiri has been stopped for six months to assess. A shame that I missed having the nurse call every day. Hahaha!

Turned everything off and got the nosh sorted out. Vegetable chilli con carnie, with cubes of potatoes done in the oven. Nice and crispy!  I soaked it up with two of the wholemeal bread rolls.

Janet and my favourite fresh cream French horns were gobbled up after the meal. There was a smidgeon of guilt lingering though afterwards. Hehehe! A Taste and Flavour Rating of 9.3/10.

Washed the pots up and spotted the sun on its way down. Despite having a shaking bout at the time (again!), I managed to get two decent, just usable pictures of it.

I took three or four, but the others didn’t come out well. Although not as vivid as some, I thought these two represented a sort of sadness. Then again, nowadays, me not being convinced, confident, in or of something, is usual, the norm! I’m not sure why.

Got a wash, and I stripped off and got down into the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, musty, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.

Then the Thought Storms launched into activity. Starting off with just how good my EQ was this morning with his forecast for the day!

This day’s events have made me even more confident in the validity of my EQ assessments and warnings. For once, I have indubitableness! I must, and will, never doubt EQ’s veridicality again.

But the self-despising, guilt, shame, failure, and bad judgments flowed through the Thought-Storms. It took ages for them to slow down enough to let me get off to sleep. Humph!

ODE TO THE DAY

My EQ warned me as soon as I woke up this Friday…
That day was going to be frustratingly messy!
There was undoubtedly no festivity but a lot of fetidity,
Leaving me with panicky mental fatiguability,
The unexpected, or forgot about, and incongruity,
Doreen Dementia, making things go recalcitrantly,
At times, I just accepted my increasing insanity…
And after so many mishaps, by own banality!

I lost hours getting the Liberty-Global net back on,
I hate things technical, electric, mobiles and silicon…
Turned all off and then back on…
Somehow got it going again, thereon…
Which cheered me up, but just a fraction,
For EQ’s warning, it was like a klaxon!

The carer was late; they’d forgotten about me,
Delayed medications (6-hours), causing psychoactivity,
And I got the shakes, and sweats, all involuntarily,
Took the belated tablets, and soon less shaky…happily!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies lesion, bloodily…
Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Toe stubbing, painful Porcelain Throne evacuating…
Hopes for an improvement turned out to be delusorily!

Every happening seems to be unfair, conspiratorily…
With the pressure of not knowing, I shook more giddily,
I got more and more uptight, responding haughtily,
I was not coping with things, well I was… but badly,
Self-pity raised its head often, and depression, sadly
Five visits to the Throne, and, Oh, many a wee-wee!
I was faffling around, like Old Mother Riley,
Ways out and solutions were well beyond me…
I knew I was in for a long day… fiddle-dee-dee!

My thoughts and concentration, or lack of I say…
Were thataway, thereaway, thisaway, anyway…
Will this stampede of failure and confusion ever fade away?
I started to fret and worry over silly things, minutiae!
Unimportant, useless, unwanted confusing clamjamfry…
Will I ever recover common sense, memory or logicality?
Then a text message reminder was sent to me…
‘Feet Today’, Toe cutting, £25 more to throw away!

I’d forgotten about the feet, got down to the salon alreet,
Being late arriving, her greeting look was like a bleat…
Painfully had my toenails cut and oiled on both feet,
Gave them each can of plonk as a peacemaking treat
And back to the flat in a hasty retreat…
Where I made chilli, that was a pleasure to eat…
But sleep was resistant; that wasn’t so sweet!

Odes Scribed To Cause A Smile and-or Laugh – I fank you!

Inchcock Today: Fri-Sat 6-7th May 2020

Friday 6th May 2020

We’ll start with
THE LOOKING BACK ODE

Advice-Tips for ankle-snapper included

Whoever thought that we would end up batty?
Or slowly, our body will end up so fatty?
And for Sunday dinner, have a bacon buttie?
Alone, we sit here, not too far from the portapotty…
Fighting off the Thought Storms, recalcitrantly!

See a youngster injure, and enjoy our epicaricacy!
Getting depressed as we realise life’s now an atrocity!
Stuck in a three-roomed flat, full of self ethnocentricity!
Wondering how you’re to pay for this month’s electricity!
Can we blame it on Dementia or our quaint eccentricity?

Of course, misery holds no exclusivity,
We won’t recognise our own depravity…
Yet recall a time when we had debauchery…
Whatever anyone says, we reply with dubiosity!

No fight left; what happened to our audacity?
Now incapable of shoeing any voracity…
And how we drank and ate: It was pure gluttony,
Happy now, with two biscuits for a meal, no edacity…
And, how come the peeing has lost all its velocity?

My adiposity, obesity, and rotundity, cause animosity!
You try in the morning to be gritty… the day ends up shitty!
Give folks a good morning, trying to be neighbourly…
In return, you get dagger eyes with venom and toxicity!
Still, it’ll happen; make the best of it… although it’s a pity!

DIARY OF WOE – FRIDAY

On around the eighth time of jumping awake, and sleep was only for four hours, the annoying tingling from the bladder forced me up and out of the c1968 recliner and over to the grey overnight bucket for a wee-wee. I don’t know why I bothered; I think I’ve got another infection in the waterworks, it took ages to evacuate, and then it was painful and barely a trickle!

I opted to get a stand-up wash at the sink, teggies, and shaving sorted. There was a degree of forcing myself, for a very rare urge to get my head down again had to be fought off!

Not an easy struggle, but I won it with a bit of help from stubbing my toe against the electric stand-up airer’s leg… again! I often wonder if there is a built-in foot attractor in the pipes?

I made a start on the graphic for the Crowell Manor blog. And, along came Carer Richard arrived. And after giving me the medications, he set about checking all the dates on the foods in the fridge. I think it was eight out-of-date items. Humph! Good on him! He will review the cupboards next Thursday when he returns from his holiday.

(I started this blog, but not until Saturday, so no memories to use) Many of my notes for this blog became unreadable due to my stupidity in a rush to record them. Squiggles are too small to read! I’ll skip any that I’m unsure about and just copy those I can understand, so it may be a short double-diary from here on in for both Friday and Saturday… Sorry.

Shit comes to mind as a suitable explanatory word of how I felt! Got some photo’s uploaded on the first try! YES! I thought it might have cured itself, but it was back to hit and miss, with many more misses than hits to the later ones! It got even worse later on…

Liberty-Global and Virgin Media went down several times. It was highly annoying and frustrating. But did I let it get to me? Yes, I did!

Crap Service, crap lying company, and it should be… never mind!

15:10hrs, I got the blog finished and posted off.

INR DVT nurse came.No, honestly!  I think I may be in love here again… Hahaha! I should imagine that my being 62 years older than she is, a good foot shorter, I’m carrying a few stones more than I should – and wobbly at that, having Vascular Dementia, being deaf partially and blind, my hopes are not exactly optimistic. But somewhere in the ether lingers the tiniest bit of hope..!

Apparently, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down three times in an hour! I read more on my memory pad cause I was so angry, I pressed on the pen harder!

CRAP!

I was struggling to get the photos onto CorelDraw, and while trying to sort it out, Neuropathy Pete kicked off, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters sent the right arm and leg all over the place. I ended up with an entirely changed screen layout and four different messages on screen that I had no idea what they meant! I could not access the controls! I was buggered! So, I stopped, turned everything off in the proper order, and prayed that the screen would come back right when I rebooted.

Couldn’t get any photos to load at all!

DIARY OF WOE – SATURDAY

HERE WE GO… TRY AGAIN

Up until the early morning hours, trying to get the photos on the system, no luck, so I got my head down. Bursting awake at 06:30hrs, after four hours of kip. Panicked a little, in case I had not heard the Carer coming; they sometimes call at 06:00hrs… then realised that if they had been, I would have heard the loud ♫Oh Susana♫ tune, even if I was sleep… or would I?

I was a bit of a mental wreck, worried about not being able to get the photos on the blog… had I missed the Carer, though? Wee-wee, a mug of Glengettie, and sorted through the potatoes to salvage any that could be able to be ‘desprouted’ enough to use. Not many passed the test, but enough for tonight’s meal. Hehe!

I took a few photos during the day, but I failed on all three tries to get them onto the computer. Things are looking bleak!

200 0 0 porc The evacuated product was a little on the firm side. Constipation Konrad taking control, I bet the next visit will either be a rock-solid, bloody, painful affair. Or, of course, it could catch me out with a reversal and be a smelly, semi-liquid, messy outcome. Tsk! This is one of one’s little pleasures in older life, not knowing what to expect!

Carer arrived. Carol was a sweetheart and always ready for a laugh and natter, even when, like today and she was busy. ♥ I did the Health Checks. Later, Carer Valerie came with some things she said had been found in the washing machine, only dish clothes, but none were mine. I’ll mention it to her when she calls again; nice of her to bring them anyway.

I got the Crowell Manor Laboratory blog finished and sent off to WordPress. Then started this one, hoping that the belated photos might get on the computer Sunday for another rescued photographs blog. Hahaha!

I seemed to get further and further behind with everything today. I did get Facebooking, WP comments replied to… all to the accompaniment of Herberts clunk-clunking, noises like dropped stuff, and an occasional tap-tap-thud.

.Mind-blanks, dizzies and no rest, as I kept on trying to get the blogging done. (I finished this one Sunday morning at about 11:00hrs. I needed to concentrate on getting Josie’s meal prepared and served up by then. So as I speak (well, type), 13:50hrs, the blog has still not been posted.) There’s no time to go one WordPress Reader; I’ll have to find time somehow on Sunday.

Worra Life, Innit?

As one ages; faculties fail… and you feel like a misfit,
You can’t get out, remember owt, or get credit…
Sex is barely a memory… and that’s dying. Dagnabbit!
These are things you’ll live with, cohabit…

A teddy bear, embarrassment at your fleapit…
Ailments galore, memories of once being fit,
Summat else, bleeding when you go for a shit
Names, using, thingamabob & whatchamacallit,

Your once handsome features, now so decrepit,
Putting up with name-calling, like a half-wit, & nitwit,
Desires dying, loins failing, I can’t be any more explicit,
The advantages of Brexit… all a load of bullshit!

.

Inchies Tips & Advice for Whippersnappers, Ablutionalisationings & Medicalisationings

ADVICE & TIPS ON FUTURE AILMENTS TO COME

I’ve given myself a challenge here… Where do I start?
Well, I don’t want to sound like a worrywart…
But you may like to put this guide on a wall chart,
Get prepared, to wee-wee, bleed a lot, and fart?
To the wet room, with ablutionalisationing, we’ll start…

Well, getting your clothes on and off, will be a work of art!
The socks removal will hurt in every leg part!
Pants and PPs, shirt and hat off, you’ll be knackered,
By the time you start teeth cleaning, paddy-whacked!
Then the toothpaste to extract…
Peripheral Pete causing shaking hands, distances inexact…
Toothpaste on your chin belly and feet… it’s a fact!

Nasal clearing, avoid catching the new pustulation…
And shaking hands, need careful manipulation…
Stabbing up the nose can cause a concussion!
Due to the dying nerve-ends neurotransmission!

Then the eyedrops, they miss each time, despite my best attention,
Evolve drips anywhere but the eyes; to the mouth, via obambulation,
Oh, while I think about it, you’ll have to have a fundoplication!
Shaving’s the next job, which always causes apprehension!

You’ll cut yourself several times, no need for overreaction…
The Brut aftershave serves as a blood stopper medication!
Mind you, it stings, you’ll swear in protestation,
It’s just another necessary daily ritualisation!

Then comes, the dangerous part, of showering!
It’s no good fearing, and cowering…
It must be done, like an everyday thing!
Dizzy Dennis arrives, you stop the soaping…
Then drop the loofah, bend in retrieving…
Hit your bonce on the powerbox, your heads now reeling…
Loss of balance sometimes, a usual old folk feeling…
Then you often find yourself falling…
But getting back up is more appalling and galling,
Usually, you’ll drop things again…
But, to avoid any more pain,
You’ll kick it away, then you may start talcing?
Till you stub your toe, then start cursing!
But there are more things yet, that will be paining!

No mirrors in the wet room, I mention tactfully,
For fear, you’ll see your flabby midriff’s rotundity,
Which will bring on the depression, for a certainty,
You’ll find spotting your reflection, rather dismally,

Little Inchies Fungal Lesion will need ointmenting,
Especially if it’s been leaking and bleeding!
The certainty of agony needs acknowledging…
Some think this procedure, is bestiality, brutality…
I can tell yer, I don’t think about affectionately!
And I don’t tackle the job exactly bravely!

Arthur Itis knees to be Phorpained, to lessen rheumatically,
An easy enough task, although the limbs can get greasy…
It’s the Phorpain Gel, the box says it’s liable to flammability?
Still, a good massage and rubbing in seems to work easily.

MedPhorpain

The Germoloiding of Harold’s Haemorrhoids is a pleasure,
Always effective, instant relief, this ointment is a treasure!
But you can’t buy it when on a Special Offer…
Full price, cause the makers, want to fill their coffer…

You’ll be able to get a cream on the NHS, Anusol, but it’s crap,
And you’ll need to wear sunglasses and a hat…
Use walking aids, hearing aids, spectacles, blind as a bat!
Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades will be begat!
I’m getting mixed up here, where was I at?

I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
As you grow decrepit and old, it’s the truth!
There is no way to make things accident-proof…

I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
There is no to make things foolproof…

But there is a way, to ease them and help make them better!
You don’t believe me? I can hear you mutter!
But clean the wound, Give it a Germolene smother…
As antiseptics go, there is none betterer…
It soothes and cools wounds with no palaver…
Keep a tube in the first aid box, it’s a good manoeuvre!

You’ll lose any skill you had at handcraftsmanship,
Sewing, darning, woodwork, sculpting, or need a replacement hip,
A new knee or two, a mechanical ticker, ready for the crypt…
So when things start to fail and collapse, don’t lose your grip!.

Don’t look back at the days when you were nonhandicapped!
Or even when you could risk being back slapped,
Or when you were capable of being able and schlepped…
It’s important for you to be able to adapt!

You’ll only compare things, with now and then,
Your mental and bodily decline, remembering girls like Gretchen?
Your confidence, comparative memories, do not enrichen!
In fact, they have been known to bring on depression!
Recalling the romances, victories, how many were they, ten?
Your first fumbling grope – can you remember who and when?
The Auntie who always bathed you… you were happy then!
But such days will never return again…
Have you still got love letters, written with a pen?
The name of your very first kitten?
Or the first dog by which you were bitten?

When your life was considered to be sublime, Utopian…
Some details will be embedded in your brain, unforgotten…
But many of them inspire things you think were rotten!
Actions and decisions that were taken by you; were you forgiven?
Or like me; having Thought Storms of guilt and derision?

There is an ailment that can free you from making many a decision…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, she’s good at memory suppression,
Also, she jumbles up numbers and dates, like a statistician…
Or mayhaps, more like a politician?
That reminds me, the Dentist and Optician…
Appointments to cancel, that’ll cause derision,
Is it a pediatrican or maybe a metaphysician?
I might be better off with a dietician or magician?

Cataract Surgery is my latest thing worrying,
Two Phacoemulsification operations or something,
Then Glaucoma operations in both eyes…
Then there’s Saccades procedure right eye,
But worrying about it is not very wise
Seeing an assessor on 3rd May waited five months, irking,

So by the time you Whippersnappers get to my age,
The NHS will be a memory, but you should manage…
Unless there is a world war again, violence is savage!
The private owners of the hospital will add a surcharge…
£200 for a bandage, £30 to be unbandaged, if you haemorrhage…
£50 a pint lost, and for cleaning up there’ll be an added charge…
An entrance fee if you have to use the triage…
Visitors will be charged, £35 an hour on average…
£40 a cup of tea, £60 for coffee, £40, for other beverages…
Medications, an Aspirin at £35, according to dosage…
Visitors can have a variable-priced massage…
Grizelda £45, William too, either-way Brenda, £200 with frottage!

I think I got carried away there, sorry!

Inchcock Today Diary – With Ode

Morning each!

Inchies Morning Ode

Wot a start to the day, confusion, logic had been abducted!
The Thought-Storms rampantness; I was abducted,
Fears and worries abounded, leaving me so abstracted…
I rose to worry more; I was totally distracted!

So many things flooded, but nothing with any merit!
Cataracts, Glaucoma, Saccades, fungal lesion, all did wherrit,
If common sense was a ballot, I’d lose my deposit!
These thoughts were unnice, not in friendship…

I got depression until Carer Richard came…
He was in a rush, he had a limited timeframe,
But listen to me moaning, all the same,
Lots in common, we both have an oversized wame!
Neither of us bothered about profit or gain…
Such a decent sort; I’m so glad he came!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 4th April 2022

I sort of burst awake; the Thought Storms were straight at me, not relenting for hours. Shame, guilt, worries etc., flowed into my mind one after the other… Guilt was the predominant emotion, along with a close second for shame! Possibly my worst attack of them ever?

I rose within a minute from the second-hand c1966 recliner, and I took a weak unwilling wee-wee in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). Then took it into the wet room to empty and clean and refresh. While in there, I decided to get the ablutions done early.

I think I felt that a shave and shower might free me from the Dracula Depression that had me firmly in its grasp this morning. I fear I didn’t think about the time, so early in the morning and the shower’s noise, and just plodded on unthinkingly. Shame! I’ve never done that before?

I was still not fully engaged in the concentration stakes, taking the jammie bottoms off… I took a tumble backwards… but fear not! I took them off in the hallway (I’m so glad now that I did, too!). Cause I benefited from my back hitting a stack of clothes hanging on the hallway hooks! And took a slow cushioned ride down to the carpet. Hehehe! Although, I didn’t laugh then, until after I had succeeded in getting back up onto my feet.

The teggie-cleaning went fine. The cleaning of the final lesion was no more painful than usual. Then the showering… I realised what time it was as soon I heard noise from the shower unit and felt somewhat culpable. So, I decided a swift shower was in order…

With the rushing about, I hit my head on the power box and carried out a most painful toe-stubbing on the trolley wheel. But I didn’t dwell on these things, for I was in such haste to turn of the power and noise it was making. Then I got around to doing the shaving…

Which turned out to be a rather colourful event… blood red!

There were no nasty nicks… but countless tiny ones all over the double-chin and neck! Unless there are more that I can’t see. Hehe!

But I knew the solution and had a bottle located nearby. But I managed to drop it, and it landed on the floor via the right foot! Also, the bottle did not break! The Brut aftershave was liberally used to stop the bleeding a little. It’s suitable for this job, it stings a bit, but it works!

Then, I turned my attention to medicationalisationings. Little Inchies fungal lesion… I got that out of the way first cause there was never any doubt it would be the most painful. And it was!

After cleaning, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were given an expensive but oh, so cooling covering of Germoloid ointment.

Then the eye drops were carefully and meticulously put in the Saccades suffering right eye. I missed, and the brown liquid ran down the cheek through the moustache and into the mouth. Tsk!

Put the olive oil into the ear canals. And fought to get the socks on, waiting to put a second lot of oil in. I’m supposed to wait for ten minutes in between each application. I didn’t use Sock-Glide-Glenda today. Not that I’m afraid of injury or sick of getting bruises and welts from the damned plastic covered, metal monstrosity of a sock glide, of course.

Did the second oiling of the ear holes. Nae, bother there.

Then did the nasal clearing.

Then I got the manufactured by ZDEAC Daguan Electrical Appliance (Zhongshan Company Ltd) in Guangdong, Sphygmomanometer, to do the Blood Pressure. It had gone down a lot, but a smidge high still, in the red zone, but not by a lot. The body temperature was pleasing at 34.6°c. I think the pulse was 71 bpm. I can’t read it in this photo. Not one of the betterer efforts.

Went to make a brew of Glengettie. The rain was still coming down in torrents.

Carer Richard arrived, in a bit of a hurry, as he had an extra call to make. While he was sorting the medications out, stock wise, I got a message on the phone from Iceland, telling me the delivery was on its way…

It seems I’ve done it again… made a right cock-up. I was sure I’d ordered this for the following Monday? I got a bit hot under the collar with myself about getting things wrong again! I told Richard quickly about m morning so far, and he said he could see the blood on my neck from the shaving farce. He had to fly, taking the waste bags to the chute with him on the way for me. Bless him.

After he’d gone, I seemed to calm down and went into ‘Just accept things’ mode. Sort of que sera, sera. Got on the computer and found the photo of the nosh last night that I could not get to load was with those the reader let me this morning, I think.

Two out of date (only just) desserts, a banana (going soft), bacon two days out of date, tomatoes and some Harry Ramsdens chips that were delightful. Rating: 702/10.

Then, the Iceland delivery arrived. No substitutes either! Hurrah! Some more of the excellent chips, a big bag too. Gastro fishcakes that were on offer if one bought three boxes and mug here did, three with smoked haddock in them and three with mushy peas in them – as the same price? Noughat flavoured iced lollies and a box of beef and black bean sauce in this top picture.

Mushrooms, microwave veg sausages, and some pasties here. I used some mushrooms to go in today’s potato and leek, erm er… whatchamacallit? Stew, I suppose, or thick soup?

Getting things to fit in the fridge was a work of art and meant a lot of hard work and throwing out some items to make room for the new stuff. I doubt I could get a matchbox in there now, not that I want to, of course. It is fuller than it’s ever been! I even took the fishcakes out of their box to get them in the freezer and other things, as you can see.

On the other hand, the fridge, after storing everything away, seems to be able to accommodate more foodstuffs, still?

Back to the wet room, hoping for an easy evacuation like yesterday was, it was almost a pleasure… But no! A reversal of fortunes, I’m afraid. Tough as nuts, firm but not rock-hard, plenty of plasma-like liquid and a smidgeon of blood. You can’t win ’em all! Washed and off to the kitchenette.

Where I got the leeks and potatoes cut up and in the pan. Then to the computer to finish off yesterday’s blog. Which I did and posted to WP. Then answered and made some comments on WordPress. Replied to Lovely HRH Lisa’s Email. I Managed to get some more photos loaded.

Facebooking for a while, then went to season the leeks & spuds. 

Diced some mushrooms, water chestnuts, and tomatoes, and into the pan they went. Adding and tasting after each addition; basil, tom puree, light soy sauce, Henderson’s relish, spirit vinegar, liquid sea salt and veg seasoning cubes. On a low light, and I kept going in to stir it.

Made a start on this blog; it’s getting late now. Compared to this morning, I’m rather chirpy… not happy, not content, yet glad to be free of the dark gloom of depression.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang from the door chime. It was Josie returning the things from her Sunday lunch. She said she enjoyed the leek and potato chilli.

I got the veg chill served up. Settled to watch some TV while I ate the delightfully tasty meal. I ate it all, which bodes of Porcelain Throne action in the morning… Oh, dearie me, yes! Taste: 8/10.

I then proceeded to fall asleep with the tray with emptied dish, spoon, jelly pot and a few slices of uneaten bread on my knee.

An hour or so later, I woke without the tray with the emptied dish, spoon, jelly pot, and a few slices of uneaten bread on my knee. They had fallen on the floor, creating a piece of modern art. Sorry I didn’t photo it now!

It took me a while to get it cleaned up. I made two bottles of flavoured spring water and then got down in the recliner again to try to watch the TV once more.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang from the door chime. It was the evening, Carer. Who got the medications sorted post haste. The gal took the waste bags with her as she departed. Bless her. Bade a farewell, and I got back down in the c1968 recliner.

I thought I may struggle to get back to sleep after nodding off earlier. Bearing in mind that it took me hours to nod off for the last two nights. No problem! Zzz! But it was a short session.

Inchcock Today: Diary Sunday 3rd April 2020

Sunday 3rd April 2020

Inchcock’s Morning Thoughts – In Ode

Hospitals say I’ve got deficiencies, to see an immunopathologist,
Although the second letter used the word, aetiologist…
I’m supposing there’s something here that I missed?
With the eye problems and my being deaf, words vanish…
Confusion, and muddleheadedness, are never vanquished!
Now, with life about to be ended, finally extinguished…

I can’t really say that life is about to be finished…
I’m still waiting for it to start; my hopes diminished…
I could do with my brain rebooted or refurbished…
So long ago now, my confidence vanished,
Never to return or to be re-established,
All through school, at the bottom, I languished…
My hopes and plans that I once so cherished…
Remain vaguely in memory, but they’ve been so malnourished!

——————————————–

03:30hrs: I jumped awake, thinking; I think out loud, “Huh, sod it!” Not a regular awakening tone at all. But I stirred in a mood that is hard to explain… I don’t believe that I was depressed as such. Resigned to loneliness, failure, and ready for whatever fate will befall me… nay, I was expecting it to! Yes, a resignation reigned… not with imperturbability, rather hang-dogged self-annoying deference, acquiescence, almost docility… submission to whatever fate is to bring to me…

Blimey, that read as a bit deep when I read it back? Did I write that?

As I was hauling my elephantine-stomached body from the c1966 recliner, I diverted to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket).

The evacuation was a reversal of those of the last three days. Gone were the torrents and splash-backing, to be replaced with pathetic, painful, having to be forced tinkling… and yet a wide spray was produced!

To my benefit, for the first time in a few days, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had not been bleeding! Emptied, cleaned and disinfected the bucket. Made a brew of JS Extra Strong tea and got onto the computer.

Which initially prevented me from loading the photographs yet again. It must have cost me two hours to get it to accept them! Bet it’ll be a kerfuffle trying to get some on later! I just wish I knew how I’d done it.

I went to make a Glengettie brew, and I did my bestest to get some shots of the twinkling lights of the early morning view from the kitchenette. But none of the three images looked right to me.

I found this confusing. Bearing in mind my eyes cataracts, glaucoma and saccades, how come I saw the view better than the Canon camera did? Or am I missing something thanks to Doreen here?

This last one was so pretty with no clouds on the horizon, and the lights were not strong enough to bother Cataract Kathleen. Yet they didn’t show up well at all?

I got the photos on the computer, and I started prepping Josies’ meal. Got some potatoes cubed and opened the tin of peas ready in advance. Too early to put any heat on. Just in case I forget.

Back to the computer, and I got this from last night on here. It was much better tasting than I thought it might be for a vegetarian nosh. Taste Rating: 8/10! Better late than never.

Did some Faffling about on the computer for an hour or two. Went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana; this time, I’ve not had any for a while.

I got Josie’s saucepan on low heat and stirred in the sliced water chestnuts. Got out more things that would be needed for the meal and put the teats all together in the fridge so I’d hopefully not forget anything when it came to putting my toque on. Haha! Cleaned the mess I’d made in the kitchen and went back to the computer…

It’s flabbergasting how little progress I’m made with the blog updating after several hours.

Herbert launched into his weekend symphony of clattering s and banging. And I was summoned to the wet room…

Blimus! It was easier than yesterday! No joking, although I did find it humorous what took place. The innards indicated that the evacuation was going to take a while, and the torpedo was going to be a hard one.

Got the crossword book out and got into it on puzzle 122. There were just two more clues to do… and I got one of them, and being as I’d been failing to finish this one. Huh!

I cheated on the last one, making cheats for this grid only two! Then it dawned on me that the evacuation was all done! I was so deep into the puzzling and didn’t realise! No pain, no blood either! Washed up, got a new jumper on, and felt boosted by that evacuations. I’m surprised, of course, but I think finishing crossword number 122 after several months helped. Hahaha!

The Carer arrived and got me sorted out. Finally, I got the Ode blog posted, then the Diary one.

Today the Blood Pressure SYS was still high, but far less than yesterday. The Pulse was okay. Also, the DIA was down too.

My body temperature was much higher at last, at 34.9°c. Good!

Did Facebooking, WP Comments. WP Reader. Then searched for copy & paste icons but found none I wanted.

Went to make Josie’s nosh served up and sorted on the tray. The kitchen clock told me I needed to get a move on to be done in time.

My wristwatch told me I had plenty of time. I checked on the computer. The kitchen clock had gained fifteen minutes?

Mr Pleasantness is giving it some hammer today.

The computer card reader is not working at all now. This could be the end of photographing for poor, sad, Inchcock on this computer?

Evening Carer arrived, Anne or Ann. Lovely lady.

Sweet Morpheus denied me nodding off for hours. Humph!

Darned Sundays!

Inchcock: Thoughts on Imbecilities – In Odes

Thoughts on Imbecilities

Vascular Dementia Doreen and the Thought-Storming,
Memory-loss, mind blanks, can be mentally disturbing,
At times depressing, troubling, often gruelling…
Alto-Ego and Inchies brain, arguing, duelling…
Sometimes the mind needs a rest for refuelling,
Here are some of the traits revealed, comedic and appalling!

Arguing with Alto-Inchy…

Conflict often starts when in the wet room, ablutioning,
I’ve only one mirror; I use it for shaving in the morning…
Or with mind-blanks, sometimes, it will be in the evening,
I hate him; he’s superior, nasty and criticising!
This Alto Inchie… the other me… can be baffling…

Mayhaps I need a neurologist or Psychologist visiting?
I hear sounds from the past, traffic, songs, bugling…
Although usually, we are deep in mental brawling…
Me, the one who ends up depressed and caterwauling…
Yet occasionally, Alto-Ego, becomes less insulting?