Inchcock Today: Life In Ode

Mind Control… or lack of…

What my mind is conjuring, and weirdly producing,
Has a new idiosyncratic strain that needs introducing…
A previously unknown worrying sense of doom-accepting?
You know, a sort of go with the flow, with no coercing,
This new deliberation of mental compliance is almost piercing!
It’s still a new thing, so I’m not going to start whingeing…
No moaning, cursing, complaining or penancing…
But, the control of my thoughts is indeed decreasing!

Kentucky Dream…

A dream only last night, I was in a house, tippytoeing…
Floating, searching, smiling, and happily singing!
It was where my cyber-friends Lisa & Billum were living…
Although they couldn’t hear me, to them, I started chatting…
I was aware this could just not be happening…
I cooked them a chilli stew and started the garnishing…
Left them a note with the meal, and started going…
Outside I was suddenly solid again and segueing…
Along a pathway… the dream started subsiding,
I found myself in my wet room… wee-weeing!

The justice system, I can’t help renouncing…
Criminals, murders freed early, to rob and kill again!
No thoughts of family members or victims; disgusting!
No realisation that they have given anguish and pain…
Pathetic parole board, free killers again, mind shuddering!
Is it the judges, parole board or murderers that are insane?

True Love Lost…

In 1964, I visited Grizelda, hoping she was in the mood for servicing,
She was very good to me, in fact, she was astounding!
For hours we were in heaven, sweating, exhilarating!
For the next session, I was already praying and waiting…
Then shattering news! Grizelda was departing…
But she gave me one last amazing trouncing…
Thus, the end of our fantastic romancing…
Gawd, how I loved our coupling and connecting!
She went home to München… bloody sickening!
One day I might find an affaire du Coeur again?

Confusions…

I ordered two-blade razors for shaving,
I used Morrisons. What should I have been expecting?
I got 5-blade razors for my shaving…
So, did my teeth, de-nasaling and washing…
Started shaving, I found it challenging…

The results were a smidge discouraging,
I’d already got bleeding molars from teeth-brushing,
The razor? I cut my finger on the plastic sheathing,
A tiny cut near the ear hole. Didn’t half sting…
Applying the aftershave to stop the bleeding,
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley started twitching…
Blood in the chest, floor and clothing…
As the Brute, I kept on sploshing…
I dropped the bottle on my foot; I was seething!
Farting about, I was very self-scathing…
But heroically carried on with my bathing!
Then walked into the doorframe, leaving…

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

Advice Received this Week

The Ophthalmologist: Take this leaflet and read it. The print was too small to read it!

The Ophthalmologist: Remember to phone the Doctor in two weeks to ensure that the Cataract operations application papers have gone through and the process started. No mention of what to do if they hadn’t – And does she really expect me to remember to do this?

Carer: (On me losing the TV remote control, I’ve never found it) You should put it in the same place every time! Well, I actually do try to, so good advice. It’s not clear cut, but falling asleep with the regular nocturnal somnambulant activity almost every night. I often find I wake and turn on the TV, get the crossword book, or, judging by the crumbs found in the folds of my stomach fat, indulge in nocturnal nibbling. But only discover this in the morning after waking. At first, I blamed the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries haunting the hallways and lobbies searching for Inchcock. To create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, scare, worry and confuse me! Sometimes, the furniture has been moved too. Shame! So, as sound as the advice was, it wasn’t practical for Vascular Dementia Doreen or me.

Carers – Warden Dean & the Nottingham City Council Commercial Debt and Revenue Recovery lady, and Bank Clerk: (Re the hundreds of pounds 3 months unpaid carer Bills to Meridian). “Don’t worry!”?

Dentist: (On being asked for the umpteenth time to take all my remaining teeth out) “I might be able to save the top front one…” After three have fallen out, the two previous ones she could save having been filled twice, then pulled. My confidence is low!

LookAfterYourEyes.org: The operation usually takes from 15 to 45 minutes. It is carried out under local anaesthetic, so you will be awake but not have any sensation in the area around your eye. Throughout surgery, you will hear the ophthalmologist explaining what they are doing, and you may see some vague movements around your eye. The ophthalmologist will make a tiny cut in your eye to remove the cataract and insert a plastic replacement lens. You will not usually need stitches, but your eyes will be covered to protect it from knocks after the operation.

You will be allowed to go home the same day, but you should have someone to go with you and look after you for 24 hours after surgery. Who?

If this means a Meridian carer, it would cost me a minimum of £440 for the 24 hours! Arghhh!

Just how does one go about declaring bankruptcy? Is it easy?

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh In Odes Series

Inchcock Today: Escape To Sherwood!

My EQ had already warned me, today would be different, special,
But I’ll have to be prepared for aggravation, be on my metal!
But explained things won’t be wrong, not an early burial…
But plans, like life, can be so decoctible…
Plans, well mine, are easily cock-uppable!
However, EQ’s warnings were mostly corrigible.

I thought that my will-power and contentment was indestructible,
Which, to say the least, was a rarity and unexplainable!
I got the blog created and sent off… although it was minimal,
The Carer was a smidge depressed, not very cheerful,
Gave him a can of Gin in thanks, told him to be safe, be careful,
Departing, the Carer definitely seemed a bit more gleeful,
Which made me feel better; did you know he was bilingual?

I only did a small blog, the eyes are getting worse, seeing less,
Still can’t get the photos on the computer – I’m at my pottiest!
Sorting out the paperwork needed for ophthalmologist,
The Bank Manager, whose visit I’d have gladly missed…
And added herb-slices to my little shopping list,
Readied things for the escape, shopping, bank and optometrist…

Here we go…

I got to the door, seeing I’d enacted my habit of being a noctambulist,
Boxes had been moved, stuff out on the trolley, can a hypnotist,…
Be consulted, for I do not recall getting from bed; was I pissed?
I think not; I stopped drinking years ago… mind you, it’s still missed!
Some bits of paper on the carpet as well, to be honest…
I don’t think my mind is at its mentally healthiest…
Hit my head picking stuff up… but this was not to be the painfullest,
Half an hour later, I felt at my poorliest…

I hobble out along to Winchester Street, limping down the hill,
A car parked on the pavement again, cruel and evil…
Not sliding in the wet leaves was taking all my skill…
I was soon swearing like the devil!
I tripped on the crack underneath the leaves, twisted my knee…
Bagged my leg falling on the soggy gravel,
It hurt, but so did me wanting to have a pee!
But more important was my desire to see Jillie!

My tumble meant nothing now; I hobbled like the devil,
My mission is to see Jillie, whatever the peril…
My fears and pain had disappeared – they were nihil!
We met, and in her arms I did cradle…
Nothing mattered then, even my wanting a piddle!.

The time shot by while I was Jillie, my lover… in my mind
She’s regal, beautiful, and so very kind…
I found her 60 years too late; it drives me out of my mind!
But she had partly adopted me, that was so very kind,
She is a gift, a pleasure, a desire, of all mankind ♥

Jillie walked with me to the opticians, beautifully coiffured,
She is even aware before I say so when something I’ve misheard!
A treasure-find for me, patient and so good-natured!
My confidence was boosted, hopes temporarily recaptured…
Into see the ophthalmologist room, to have the eyes inspected!
Prodding and eyes, the drops all done; 20 minutes, I waited…

The Oculist came out with the problem after I was examined,
The result was not unexpected… I’m overly cataracted!
She set the ball rolling for me to have two lenses fitted…
Paperwork to the Doctors’ was remitted…
She explained further to me of the operation…

Risky at my age, but without it, I’ll be blind within a year
As was expected and natural to me, worry, but no fear.

Gave me some leaflets to read. There is no point in prescribing the new glasses until after the operation. Because having two plastic lenses replacing the genuine lenses would alter the sight a lot, they will sort the spectacles out with another examination after the procedure.

Also, she can look into the Glaucoma and Saccades issues after my getting and trying the new spectacles. Which can’t be done until so many weeks after the operation has been completed. Ah, well! Only what I expected, really.

I had the pleasure of thanking them, and going with Jillie to the bank. Which took a lot of her time, but she was very patient. We went into a room with an advisor. I could not hear what he was saying, and the rapidly declining eyesight meant I could no longer see well enough to try lip-reading. But, Jillie did all the talking for me. ♥ She asked about the Carers Direct Debit situation, and the chap told her, as she explained afterwards, I had no idea what was going on, Hehe! that the transactions were set up, but nothing had gone out yet? Crumplemost Confusing!

After a long time, we left the bank, and Jillie had to help me with the cash machine to get some money out. Bless Her! I don’t know what I’m going to do when the gal is unavailable!

Got some bits from the local continental store, not a lot; I’ve got a food delivery coming in the morning.

We walked back to Jillie’s house, and I got a hug (Boy, that felt good!) as we parted. Despite the morning’s happenings, I felt up to walking up the hill back to the flats!

I got in and made a meal. Gobbled it up, and sat down; and fell right asleep! For about four hours! Got up, and I started to mop the kitchen floor as Carer Richard arrived. We had a little natter, but he was in a rush. So I gave him one of his favourites, a pink gin and tonic, thanked him as he departed. Then got on with the moping again.

I sat down with a mug of Glengettie tea to watch Heartbeat on the box… But only managed about ten minutes, and I drifted off again.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

After an hour, I sprang awake in absolute agony! The hobble (I imagine) had set off Colin Cramps, and boy was he giving me some pain! Worse, he went on all night until about 04:30 in the morning!

MedPhorpainI used up an entire tube of Phorpain overnight! But it did me no good. Even taking two co-codamol didn’t ease things at all! All in the left foot and leg. Knob-Gobs! I’ve never had cramps so bad in my life before?

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme

Inchcock Today: My Daily Battle With My Brain – In Odes

Inchcock’s Battle With His brain

In Odes

I try to recall, days when I was sensual,
Indulged in things rampantly sexual,
Although things were rather unequal,
I managed a few times, it was often bestial,
But with Grizelda, the pleasure was mutual,
Always an absolute delight, as usual,
Not once, did we tergiversate, it was lovely, mate!

I try to recall, days when I was sensual,
Indulged in things rampantly sexual,
Although things were rather unequal,
I managed a few times, it was often delightfully bestial,
But with Grizelda, the pleasure was mutual,
Always an absolute delight, as usual.
Not once, did we tergiversate, it was lovely, mate!

Yes, some memories are unshakeable,
But the memories can become unreliable,
Some memories remain clearly visible…
Even bad ones, that were loathsome and derisible…
Some get distorted, it’s sadly undeniable,
The better ones, that are so delightful…
Can, mournfully get mixed too, and that is awful!

Often things seem to be unfathomable, unlocatable,
Sometimes I can find this almost laughable…
Mostly frustration and self-loathing become forceful,
I find that vascular dementia tastes disgraceful,
I’ll sit and stew, pass wind – rather odourful…
Moping, moody, penitently, depressed and remorseful!

Suddenly, I get determined and resourceful…
I’ll write notes on the computer, paper, and get hopeful!
But forget I’ve done it, or to check; it’s pitiful…
Then I sink back to depression, and being slothful!

I seem to be stuck, with being permanently doubtful,
Worrying, fretting, failing, it makes me so miserable!
It’s difficult, wearying; not capable of being hopeful!
I don’t think I am really sour or unthoughtful…
But my plans always turn out unsuccessful,
Things happen, Accifauxpas, errors, by the shedful…
They are made by others as well, it makes me fearful,
I can’t put them right, and that is awfully stressful,
The hearing, sight, memory, stuttering are dreadful,
They stop me sorting things out, making me regretful,
Life goes on, getting more and more strifeful,
No chance of my ever regaining logic or being successful!

My fears, frustration, handicaps, are plentiful…
Always having to try to be overcareful,
This ode is turning into tattle and waffle…
Today, I’m down, and not being very subtle…
Trying to write, is a Peripheral Neuropathy caused a kerfuffle!

I suppose I could just put on the kettle?
Make a brew of Glengettie, and have a tipple?
Hello, the door chime did tinkle…
The Morrison order arrived, a cheering up signal!

I’ve got some new drinks in for Carers now, wonderful!
Suddenly, I don’t feel such a numbskull…
Ordered three beef pasties, only got one – but I’m thankful,
At least the treats for the Carers are plentiful!
I’m humming to myself now; a sign of becoming convivial?
Suddenly my problems appear more trivial!
Food and chinwags are what are essential…

Part of Inchcock’s Make Them Laugh – In Ode Series

Inchcock Today: Visited by Sister Jane & Hubby Pete

The spelling mistake in the header was made on purpose  – just to test you. Ahem!

Inchcock Today: Visited by Sister Jane & Hubby Pete

Gotten Himmel! Great balls of Fire! Blow me down with a feather duster! I had slept straight through, no NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) visits: For over six hours! The longest night with Sweet Morpheus for months – No waking up with any ailment pains… Bloody Fantastic!

Mind you, the brain was not too interested in waking up. However, it did join me later on. The Peripheral Neuropathy shakes began. The moment I got out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously, grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner, and started to hobble about. So Metal Mickey went everywhere with me as a precaution.

In the first instance, which was to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. The evacuation was the reverse of those of the last few days. Trotsky Terence had regained his advantage over the  Constipation Conrad.

Messy, gooey, and in need of cleaning up after the event. Whatever caused the red blotches under both arms is no worse, but I’ve got new growths underneath both man-breasts? Did I mention that all the underarm and chest hairs had fallen out? Well, they have!

Has anyone reading this had owt like this before? If so, a word or two of information in the comment section would be most appreciated. Being the lucky bugger, I am, I’ve spent the last three Christmases or New Year in the hospital for various reasons. I was hoping to avoid this happening this year.

But, with all the sleep I’d had, I was not too bothered. Indeed, after sorting out the mess, I did the nasal clearing, the teeth and had a shave. And that produced only two tiny nicks, despite the jerks and shakes. Though I was wary of being over-confident, I left Metal Micky close to had throughout.

I didn’t do the medicating, other than Harold’s Haemorrhoids… Oh, and another thing to cheer about – Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had not been bleeding. I found out shortly after thinking this when I stubbed my toe against the sock-glide on leaving the wet room. Argh! Is this real, or am I still asleep dreaming?

Now, time for a brew of Thomson Punjana tea. in one of the new, second-hand Bone-China mugs. No question to my mind, tea does taste so much better drinking from a Bone China mug!

I took some morning shots of the pretty clear nights, well, mornings views from the kitchenette window. Amazingly, ten minutes or so afterwards, as I was on the computer, the mist, the fog actually had fallen! But I’d beaten it today and got three decentish snaps taken. The first is a close up of the front of a house on Elmswood Gardens. (Above) It looks like part of a nativity play to me? They’ve done an excellent job of it, I reckon. The second was taken to the right of the window, the third to the left. Both are wider shots, as you can see. All have the first close-up one in them.

I pressed on with prepping for this blog. And making repeated mugs of tea, 99, Glengettie, and Thompsons Punjana. Then Saccades got a lot more blurred, and my progress was slowed down a lot.

Aha, I had just got back from taking a wee-wee, the door chime chimed, and in walked Jane and Pete!

Much was discussed, memories that I now find I can’t recall. And that is body-blow, I can tell yers. Because I always believed my long term memory was as good as ever. And that just the recent and newer stuff was getting beyond my mental capacity. But no, that is apparently no longer the situation. Worrying innit? But it came out that they had a photo of Grandma Harriet. Who, apparently had fifteen children, but she died at 59. I never knew any Grandma or Grandads; they all passed away before I was born

They even had a photo of her. Pete sent me a copy (here on the left) of the picture to my email.

You understand we were never a close-knit family. But this was a disappointment to me, that no one had ever told me her name… well, I can’t remember it happening anyway.

Jane and Pete had been to ‘Auntie’ Bobbie’s house, now mine, and will see Mary Rawson next. Another stunner, this brought back the memory of Mary’s husband, who happened to have the same operation, as I did, a week earlier than I. In the same hospital and wards in the City Hospital. But a week later, I was told by Jane that he had passed away. Such a good genuine family man, as decent as one can find… and yet do nothing me, was not taken? It made much worse when I heard he’d been taken to the Doctors, who refused to deal with him and told them to go to the hospital. He passed away en route! I’m still bitter about that.

I showed off the box of hand-made cuddlies that HRH Lisa and Billum had sent me.

The pair had a nosey look at them and sent their thanks to HRH Lisa for the loving gesture.

Hahaha! I think that Pete took a shine to ‘Crazy Fuzzy Goat’, as Christened by Lisa. I reckon Jane’s favourite was the ‘Pink Fuzzy Monster’.

Pete took a shine to my ‘Long Eared Rabbit’, so I took temptation away from him and had a chat with LE Rabbit myself. Jane was not surprised; she knew me and understood. Hahahaha!

During the hard to follow machinations and chin-wagging, I soon discovered I was overweight. Hahaha!

They got ready to leave and took the three boxes and two carrier bags of wines and pressies with them. They nearly forgot the two over jackets for Pete. I bought them two years ago, not seen them since. How Pete got them down to the car, I don’t know. I safely put my single 8oz pressie away from both of them. Pete also returned items he’s been storing for me; bless him.

Looking good our Jane, and she’s nearly a year older than I am! It must have been those early years in Sicily and those in Australia that did her good. Petes looking good too, but don’t tell him I said so.

Carer due anytime now, meal to prep, and this blog to finish and post, so I’ll be offski folks.

TTFN.

Inchcocks Wednesday of Whoopsiedangleploppery

I’ll start at the beginning, (Sounds logical to me? – Hehe!) Perhaps I might learn to spell as well… tomorrow…Tsk!

I woke around 03:00hrs and rose gingerly to my feet,
But the knees and legs bothered me most, mate…
Just look at ’em on the left here… What a state!
Still had Arthur Itis giving pain and the flat feet…
Without pains, a life I would think would be incomplete?

The regular fluid retention that usually sinks into the feet seemed now stuck in the top of the legs. My patellas are all knobbly?  But I’m not complaining (then anyway).

I began to think through the needs and actions of the potentially hectic mornings requirement. Which, as I noted, were:

  • Get the ablutions done early, like straight away…
  • Make sure I do not use the shower as early as this in the morning, so I’ll have a stand-up session at the sink.
  • Get the teeth done first.
  • De-coke the nasals.
  • Saccades eye drops in. (Try to get some of the medication into the eye this time!)
  • Before shaving, don’t forget to say your little prayer to the Peripheral Neuropathy God. And make sure the aftershave is handy to stop any bleeding.
  • Do take care medicationalisationing. I can tell already that Little Inchies final lesion has been bleeding cause as soon as I moved, the dried blood cracked as the P.P.’s were adjusted… So be prepared for agony, and brave it out, mate!
  • Now cometh something that will be as much hassle and pain as anything…
  • Yes, the sock-glide has to be used for the first time in months! Sorry, but it’s just too cold to go out to the Dentist, barefooted in my shoes this time!
  • I wish you all the best of luck with carrying out this fearful, scare-making task! But, it’s got to be done!
  • Things went relatively well as it happened.
  • As expected. The worst by far was the tender application of the dreaded, feared, always tear bringing…
  • Tender in the extreme and extra painful cause one has to get to things in the first place… 😢
  • The Sock-Glide won the ‘Most Hated’, The Most Feared’ awards. But the fungal lesioning retained its status as ‘King of the Excruciating Medicalisationings!’
  • I was so glad that I got these done and out of the way early on… I even Smug-Moded about it for a while!

I made my first brew of tea, finished off yesterday’s blog, and got it posted off. The Carer came nice and early, so that was nice… her seeing the photo of my legs on the computer screen was a bit harrowing for the gal, though. Hahaha! Me too!

I thanked the girl and offered some nibbles or drinkies in thanks, but she wouldn’t have any. I fang-you! Off she went taking my waste bags to the chute with her.

The computer turned off, and I got down to getting things ready in earnest. Let’s have a think now…

Bus pass to get back home with, yes! Camera, check. Cash card… okay. Keys, Alert bands, Warfarin I.D., yes… Somethings missing, methinks? Aha, shopping list and cash card, Gorrit!  By the time I was all ready to go, it was about 08:15hrs as I set out. I got into the lift and down to the ground floor…

Then went back up to the 12th-floor and the flat and got a face mask adorned. Nearly made another cock-up there!

THE JOURNEY…

Down and outside, over the road, Accifauxpas, nought!
I turned around, to the view of Winwood Court,
I took a photo of it… well, I thought I aught!
But the gravel hill up into the park made me fraught…

Made it up the hill in one go – but I was heavily breathing,
A dog came from nowhere, barking at me; I was seething!
Nearly ended up mucking my underclothing!
The dog owner arrived, she was chunky, fortysomething…
I fell in love again… the mouth was frothing…

I limped my way through the twitchel no one was about,
I was a little nervy, so I still kept a lookout,
Had a look around as I came out…
That twitchel has an ominous aura, there’s no doubt!.

Down the hill, as far as Elmswood Gardens, then right…
And alongst it. I plodded towards the traffic light…
Mansfield Road road, the spending did start!

Too early for the Dentist, I called into the Wilko store,
Laundry booster, Zoflora and Trots tablets… Yes, some more!
The tablets were easy to get, four feet from the floor…
The booster too high, out of reach, to my displeasure!
I ask a lady for help, at her leisure…
The Zoflora, bottom shelf, I ended up on the floor!
But the ladies laughed and helped me up some more!

Out just in time to get to the Dentist,
They treated me well, although they were pressed…
A new gal training on the reception desk…
I was soon fetched to see the Dentist Oola Bogusz,
As she leant over me, I could sense her firm left bust…
She smiled at me a lot, was I going mad or what?
She and the nurse actually joked with me???
Toothpaste prescription, Something amiss here, just you see!
In no time, I was treated and set free!

I had a funny turn while paying my dues…
Well, I had it when I first joined the queues
These were also patient with me… another ruse?
I have to work this out at home, have a muse…
Why the change? They all usually have a short fuse!

Not many folks about? Most of them had not got facemasks on. Even in the Dentist and Wilko. What’s the matter with them?

Down to the Co-op, to get some cans of their delightful own brand chilli-con-carne… why the tastebuds were salivating at the thought of getting some more cans… But No! The assistant asked the manager for me, and I found that they had stopped stocking this product, Grrr! Gnatwrangles! Damn them! Curses! Flibblegonkackles! Gits! Slobs! Flibblegonkackles! May they go bankrupt! And may whoever it was who decided to stop stocking my beloved cans of Chilli; Get festering, fungal-lesions bursting out slowly all over their body, for at least a full year, before they finally rot away; in absolute agony!  Not that it overly bothers me, mind!

Then up to the top of the road to Lloyds Chemist,
Oh, Pharmacy nowadays, sorry, how remiss!
I got the prescription toothpaste from Alice,
Leaving, I trapped my finger in the door…
My Saccades vision is now feeble & poor…
And the left index finger is bloody sore!

Humph!

I got to the bus stop and met Esther, we had a natter, as she was on her way to the flats to do someones cleaning. Nice to see her. We walked through the link passages together – they can’t touch me for that! Hahaha! (Can they?)

Home Sweet Home!

Well, things didn’t go too bad, well, maybe… erm… either way, I did enjoy the getting out of the flat bit. Although it cost me a lot of dosh, a little blood, frustration and had moments of utter confusion… that’s life, you see… Well, it is for me!

My Route Taken

Yellow on foot – Purple on the bus.

I unloaded the bits of stuff purchased. Of course, there would have been more; had the lousy, stinking, crap-ridden, overcharging, dog-breath,  Klunglefrazzled Co-op had some their ‘Honest Value’ Chili-Con Carnie to sell me. But never mind. Shit!

I soon settled into a routine that matched the rest of the day,
Drinking spring water, tea and a pee; what a thirst I’d got on me,
I may not have been contented, but not depressed, exactly,
I started the mammoth task of doing this blog artistically!
In between blogging, I even had two callers, socially!
A lovely carer to drop off a Christmas card, nice & early.

Even got a phone call from the Doctors surgery,
Wanting to arrange a booster shot for me…
I explained I’m having it done at the chemist this Saturday,
Adding, I’ll see you tomorrow anyway…
Why is that? she did say, ‘For medical, the yearly…’
No, you’re not booked in, evidently?
I’ll check, hang on, she said wearily…
I’ve got it on my calendar, my dearie?
Have I got it wrong again? Am I illusory?
Nothing on our records, she added hastily…
Oh, a free day for me then, that’s satisfactory…
Maybe I can have a hassle-free day?
Yes, well, I’ll see, you may be hearing again from me?

The feet, after not wearing socks for months, continuous…
Felt okay, but the legs were feeling somewhat lethiferous,
So, I wound up the trouser legs, oh, the fuss…

What a change to earlier ones, more flush,
Still swollen, at the top, but fatter lower down?
Will the fluid flow with a gush?
Will things spurt in a rush?
Will the legs turn to a sodden mush?
Will the world, these limbs discuss?
Will the cause be revealed, as dracunculus?

Look what I found in the middle of the kitchen floor!
A rock hard escapee garden pea, what is more…
The miracle is, how I hadn’t noticed it before?
Has my eyesight, really got that poor?
Am I going potty? I’m not sure…

Camera Out – Balcony Utilised!

To take some snaps of the wonderful view.
The amazing sky, shown in the first two…

In a couple of shots of Chestnut walk, you won’t see any queue,
The place is sparse of people. what can I do?
Are they all inside, eating sausages, fish or making a fondue?
Mayhap some are trying on their Christmas tutu?
Or on holiday in Bulwell, Cardiff or Timbuktu?
Perhaps absent, gone off on a romantic rendezvous?
It’s possible a few could be feeling sozzled or blue?
Out buying food, but the panic buyers are in the queue?
Or in town, with their free bus passes to renew?
I’d speculate more; if only I knew…
Where they have all gone, what are they up to?
Ah, gorrit! Christmas! They’ll be making their homebrew!

Well, I’d better get some food – salad or a stew?
No, vegetarian sausages and root potatoes… that’ll do,
I’ll take a photo of it later, just for you to have a peekaboo!

Worra Nosh!

Vegetarian! Royal grown potatoes, root vegetable mash, tomatoes, Nigerian podded peas, Veggie sausages, cheese and bean pastie, with orange jelly and spray cream for dessert!

Taste Rating: 7.9/10 – Delicious!

Part of ‘The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme’

To all my thousands of fans throughout the world, I wish you all good fortune, fun, festivities, euphoria and future financial prosperity! (To both of you!)

TTFN!

Inchcock’s Tips & Advice – Part 3

Ordering Food From Sainsbury’s

A risky business if you forget to tick the No-Substitute button on each item ordered. Their best foul-up was substituting a Milk Roll loaf of bread with pikelets. Their worst, and mostly unrelated to the thing ordered, was when I ordered a bottle of disinfectant, and they issued me with a pot of brown shoe polish! The most hilariously opposite was when I ordered Marmite Biscuits, and they sent a box of iced lollies? But with supposedly suitable substitutes from Sainsbury’s record, it’s better to have nothing than something you cannot use or do not like or want!

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Questionnaires Letters Official Bumph!

Ah, there will be much of this. All of differing nature, from accusative, mock-caring related, but mainly of a financial nature. Then the circulars, cunningly disguised to look like officialdom paperwork to confuse and con. Plus, of course, notifications of increases in rent, carers fees, reduction in bank interest, medical appointment, debt chasers, and the odd birthday card.

Nottingham City Council Fairer Charging Team, Nottingham Revenues and Benefits Team. Financial Assessment for Social Care Services

Since Coronavirus, thus anticipated to continue forever, are the telephone interviews and questionnaires. Last week, I got a call telling me they would ring me later in the week to fill in a detailed form from the… I love the length of this title… The Nottingham City Council Fairer Charging Team, Nottingham Revenues and Benefits Team. Financial Assessment for Social Care Services. The chap had a clear voice on the phone, so I caught most of what he said. He would ring on Wednesday at a specific time, and we might be on the phone for a while as the questionnaire was several A4 pages long.

Come Wednesday, a different man rang as promised. We started the Q & A’s. Talk about detailed: we were on the phone for over two and a half hours! Mind you, I did have to stop twice, for a wee-wee. (You’ll find this a problem in your dotage!)  Bank details taken? All my ailments were requested, with the effects they cause me, in particular. There are so many, I must have missed some off. I wondered at one time if I should have mentioned the pustules and boils on my bum, but I didn’t bother.

After so long using the phone, Colin Cramps came on in the left hand and fingers. I had to swap to use the right hand, which has Peripheral Neuropathy and is affected by the Stroke. This gave me more pain and hassle, I dropped the phone and got the shakes, and the right knee got a sudden jerk as Peripheral Pete started jerking and jumping, which I thought had broken my patella! All the time, considering what the interviewer must be thinking is going on! I had to stop again. to take a painkiller.

Finally, all done, I was a physical and mental wreck!

Something you whippersnappers might keep in mind for your future mind’s delving into senility. Not an easy thought, I know.

I’ve not heard any reply yet.

DWP Department of Work and Pensions, Disability and Carers Services Charging Team

  • We may write to your doctor or someone else who can tell us how your disability arrests you.
  • We may arrange for a doctor to examine you
  • We may write to you asking for more information
  • We may arrange for someone from your local Social Security office to come and investigate you.

To me, this blast out a message: You fiddling lying old git! No chance! You can whistle for any financial help from us.

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

Waking Up!

Firstly, according to how the Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and Hassle-Stakes are going at the time, you will either be glad you have woken up again or wish you hadn’t!

Above is an indication of how you will feel as you slowly grasp, work out, or guess at what day and the time it is. The split in your reaction will be about 60/40 in favour of depression!

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

Medicationalistalisationings

It seems that Vascula Dementia Doris (Who will undoubtedly visit many current Whippersnappers in their old age) had been causing me to get the taking of the medication all wrong. And I’d got into a bit of a mess with it. The Social Services supplied me with Carers, AM and PM, to sort and control my medicines. This has not been the success that I’d hoped it would be… Humph!

I’ve been having the carers call for about two months now. Last week was the fifth time that no one arrived. Not so bad during the week, cause I can get help to call them, and someone in charge will be on site. Which I’ve done four times now.

On one occasion, on a Saturday with no one in the Winwood Court Meridian office, I rang the number and got a central control room, wherever that is. The gentleman (I use the term loosely), answering, got annoyed at my not hearing what he said, and I was stuttering a little, which seemed to bother him somewhat. But someone did arrive shortly after and sorted the medications. But why did they not get in touch on any of the occasions to let me know? I was just told that someone failed to turn up?

Rather annoying, and this meant taking the tablets so much later. Which on one occasion was six hours late, by which time I was in severe pain with Duodenal Donald because the Omeprazole had not been taken! Also, every prescription package from the chemist has had a problem with it. Being late, no Codeines sent, the wrong Peptac… on and on it goes. If the charges go up, or when, I shall have to be vehement in my complaints cause nothing has changed.

Be aware of these problems, Whippersnappers!

Self-Administered Subcutaneous Injections

As you young-uns get older, there is a good chance of you having ticker problems. By-pass, Aorta Valve replacement, DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis etc. Of course, I have been blessed with them all.

Enox3a

In my case, subcutaneous injections are infrequently needed. Only when the INR level gets below 1.0, but it has to be kept in stock just in case, as it could be a lifesaver. Two injections, twice a day. Along with increased Warfarins for a few days, whatever is instructed to me by the Haematology, DVT Clinic at the Queen’s Hospital.

It helps a lot if your chemist supplies hypodermics with needles that are unbent. My chemist is very good at sending them to me (picture above). As well as wrong items on the prescription, missing them off altogether, and failing to deliver them. Who is it?

Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Road, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, near the launderette and pub, is near the ignorant staffed Lidl store. Telephone: 0115 960 5453. Be wary!

Subconjunctival haemorrhaging Eyes

These add colour and depth to your good looks!

Perhaps! Hehe!

Part of the Inchcock Advice & Tips Series

More To Follow folks

Inchcock Ode – Welcome to my world

Welcome To My World

Upon waking, Inchcock will often do a sensual check on any ailment attacks or changes. Sometimes, a discussion will occur twixt Inchcock and a specific ailment, typically one that has been giving him a little extra pain and, or hassle. When these occur, the silly old goat usually makes an Ode and graphic about his demented, dreamt up, nonsensical clap-trapping, as below from an old one.

For some unknown reason, the idiot asked me to show this graphic, as he puts it: ‘Wot I Made!’ cause he’s seems to think it is one of his rare, almost non-existent successes?

As his Alto-Ego, I will now let the uneducated, lonely old fool take over the writing of this rubbish. TTFN.

Once the physical activity starts in the morning, I often wait for the mental conditioning to begin; it usually catches up within a few minutes. It can take hours, but not often.

They were tackled then.

Sphygmomanometer showed Sys and Dia, readings high,
The Wee-Wee chart: I need to drink more! Gin & Dry?
Would it help if I go to a detoxify?
On this mind of mine, I cannot rely!

A quick look for any new damage, I don’t want to oversimplify,
Another bruise was found on the top of my left thigh…
An unknown round welt, right arm, that I can’t quantify,
The torso seems to have started to transmogrify?
Heart Op Scars raised, itching again, certainly uglify!
The broken Terence Tooth hit the pain-boards bullseye!
Shuddering, Shoulder Shirley’s eased off, but why?
Hit my head on the stove but didn’t get a black eye!.

The following tasks were ablutionary,
Not worn any socks since about July,
Cold, Brr! should I dare to use Sock-Glide Georgina?
I’ve no medical aids that are any meaner!
One Sock-Glide injury needed micro-surgery!
Hickeys, bruises, cuts, and a bleeding periphery,
Stubbed toes, damaged knees, I felt all fluttery…
Should I put my socks on? I recalled the imagery,
Of the last time, I fought Georgina, bitterly!
I chickened out of wearing socks; what a mockery!.

Anytime in the next three hours, cometh Meridian,
An incredible variety of Carers, one who is Balearian,
Unless I misheard her, and she is Algerian?
Not that it matters, none of them shows me derision,
An American gal, English, British, and an Assyrian,
All make a positive impression!

Porcelain Throne Sessions

Ah, every visit is a different evacuation, indeed.
Some days it can be half an hour, then I’ve only peed!
Rock-solid torpedoes, agony, things bleed!

Next time, liquid, 30 seconds, messy but what speed!

Housework Tended To

Took the chance to clean the fridge up, ready for the delivery to arrive shortly – well, I hope so.

Iceland Delivery Arriveth!

Then, on with Prepping Josie’s Meal

Got it delivered almost on time for her.

I was so proud of how Josie liked the look and smell,
The beef arrived two hours later, took in the dish for the gal.
Water chestnuts, potatoes, tomatoes, beef chunks as well,
Leeks and onions, chilli, three beans, the lovely smell!
Seasoned with liquid smoke, paprika, beef flavour gel,
Said she loved the cream Pretzel,
Even called me an old Angel!
I mentioned the extra lidded pot for the Damsel,
To have later, quantity double,
Too long at her door, I did not dwell,
I sensed she was hungry… Oh, yes, I can tell!

End Car Park

End car park area busy today.

Evening Views

I shall have to go now. Most likely the evening Carer will crave my body, mind and bank account… Ahem!

Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments – Part Two

Talking with my ailments

Introduction:

Part Two – Shaking Shoulder Shirley

After Inchcock was diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, he then got told he was a diabetic. Then had a stroke. (He’s a lucky lad… Not!) Next, a Subconjuntival Haemorrhage in his right eye.

Then while recovering in an NCH (Nottingham City Homes) Care Home, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley introduced herself. He presumes this is due to the (Nicodemus’s) Nerve ends dying. But the occasional Neuropathy Pete’s shuddering, shaking and jerking of the right side of his body and limbs rarely last for more than a few minutes at max. Usually, Shirley is a lot more violent for some unknown reason and can wear the old man down when she’s persistent. Shaking and lashing about. Her efforts recently have increased somewhat, time-wise, and Inchcock says, “After a long hour or so session, I’m convinced she is trying to wrench my humeral head bone free of the socket” Oh, and Inchcock also needed three stitches in a shaving cut!

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

The Nocturnal Natter with Shirley

A mixture of awake, half-asleep, and dreamt discussions, wrote from notes and during the actual multiple chin-waggings…

Inchcock: I’m not sure why or how you came about… Shirley: Ha!, now you talk to me; I’m not as important as Bloody Boris bladder then, what’s that about?
Inchcock: Whaddya mean about?
Shirley: Yo started this ‘ere Talking to yer ailments series of blogs off wiv him… not me, who is far more painful indeed… innit, no doubt?
Inchcock: Well… it depends which ailment is worst at the time… giving me the severest clot…
Shirley: Argh, shurrup! You’ll know now why I’ve been giving the jerks and aches then? Cause yer doesn’t rate me was mean enough… yer, I’ll put yer in more pain than gout!
Inchcock: I wouldn’t and don’t doubt your pain-giving qualities at all; I’m already in pain, tired and worn-out!
Shirley: I suppose Bartholomew give it more to you?
Inchcock: Well, he has been lasered and still works,
Shirley: Cum on mush, look how yers treated me, bad or not!
Inchcock: I massage you twice a day with Phorpain gel
Shirley: Not like you, an old fart that still drinks bottled stout! Yer just an ungrateful old trout!
Inchcock: I…
Shirley: And another thing, I’ve never let the shoulder joint fall out!
Inchcock: Well, I doubt…
Shirley: I’ll tell yer to wot you done to me int past, Inured me you have, I remember the Colwick security stakeout!
Inchcock: Go one then, tell me all about it… it won’t make me freak out!
Shirley: Now yer makin’ me want to puke and pout!
Inchcock: Pout? Why? What about?
Shirley: Oh! Yer not bovvered about me puking then, yer an emotional wash-out!
Inchcock: I remember now, Shirley, Colwick, when we did an overnight lookout…
Shirley: Ah, year, that’s wot it was about!
Inchcock: When I was using the night goggles, from the back of the van… and from it, I fell out, giving you a good clout?
Shirley, you landed in a field, and blood did spout…
Inchcock: Blood? Who’s? No, surely not?
Shirley: It was me, and you bleeding.. have you no memory left or what?
Inchcock: Erm…
Shirley: The burglars arrived? You felt around in the dark for the R.T., went out of the van to take a nighttime photo, missed the step.., and fell on me! What an idiot!
Inchcock: Ah, yes… I fell on a broken tin pot…
Shirley: And it cut me! And you still never got the I.D. shot!

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

Notes made for later use…

In the afternoon, Inchcock: Fell asleep…

Shirley: Oi, you Inchie! Are you ready to have anuvver talk wiv me?
Inchcock: Well, I’d like for me…
Shirley: Don’t tell me, you’re back on the Drambuie?
Inchcock: No, no, no, I don’t drink anymore…
Shirley: Sounds like an oxymoron, yer fibbing, you see…
Inchcock: No, I’m not, you’ve been hanging around for over seventy-odd years, must have noticed, so you must indeed acquiesce, concede, and agree?
Shirley: Oh, trying to get clever with words, I see?
Inchcock: Why are you so nasty and sarkie?
Shirley: Me? I’ll tell yer why, dumbo! In left Shoulder Lilly, never, always me, that’s what causes my incongruity! Why is it always me the doctors stick the hypos in?
Inchcock: Now look, we’ve grown old together, Shirley…
Shirley: Yea!
Inchcock: We’ve been through some tough times, we all suffer, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, Deaf Darren, Hemorrhoidal Harold, Saccades Sandra all of them, oh, and Toothache Tiffany…
Shirley: Enough of this claptrap mush! But I do wish you well with this little ditty!
Inchcock: She suddenly returned into the ether; what a pity!

Time To Get An Iceland Order Done, methinks

A bit bare, innit?

Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments

Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments

Number One – The Bladder

I begin with Little Inchies Bladder; I think I used all my luck up for the rest of my life around 1989. I got a hernia from lifting the bins at Hero Drinks at Kegworth, went in to have the Hernia Repaired, which they did immediately, putting me in the Men’s Surgery in Ward 19.

When I woke up, and they told me how lucky I had been! And they were right! When they went in with the laser and camera (Yes, I know… how the heck did get all that down Little Inchy you were going to ask, weren’t you? Well, I don’t know, I was blissfully asleep all the way through the operations!) The Consultant carried on; they found cancer in the bladder, which showed up on the mini laser camera, and being as they had all the same tools needed for the hernia, they burnt it out straight away! But my bladder capacity is reduced by 50%. Fair enough, I thought, thank you!

That brought a smile to my face! But the man wouldn’t let me kiss him. Hahaha!

He added that they would remove the catheter and bag from Little Inchy for me in a short while.

An Auxhilary nurse on her own arrived to do it. The poor gal was a bag of nerves and started to pull it out without bleeding it enough first. I asked her to stop and bleed it a bit more… the gal was shaking, bless her.

Above my ward was Prince Charles come in to have his tennis elbow looked at. The staff earlier were disgusted; the hospital had emptied the ward above me. I could hear them moaning about patients being put into a corridor!!! And set two nurses and a Sister on duty, 24/7 for the duration of the Prince’s visit.

Back to the beside:

A sudden, unbelievably loud screech/scream burst out from a nurse. I think, “Look, look, it’s Princess Di coming in!” At this, everyone who could move did so over to the window to look down at Di and her (they told me later) the armed protection officers, as they got her in through a fire door to avoid the press waiting, with cameras at the main front door!

Most unfortunately for me, the young nurse was amongst the Royalists who stampeded to get a view of Lady Di – and pulled the catheter out, catching it with her foot, I assume, as she rushed for her Royal treat!

So, I was with blood spraying up like a fountain, and covering me the bed, clothes and floor… Which the nurse spotted a minute or two later, and she came to me in a panic and crying at what she’d done! Sobbing her heart out, she was! Other staff arrived, the poor young lass couldn’t stop crying, and eventually, things got sorted.

A ranking nurse joined us and started to tear a strip off of the Axhilary nurse; I don’t know why, (Well, I do, I felt terrible for her), but I said; “No, it wasn’t her fault, I turned to see what the fuss was and pulled it out…” I’m sorry I said that now, cause for the next two days, my name was mud with nurses!

The first wee I took with the catheter out, shot forth as if from a fireman’s hose, bounced back from the walls – and I kid you not, left an imprint of my body on the back wall, with blood around it!

I’ve wandered off the plot here, haven’t I?

Sorry, back to the chinwag with the bladder fun…

Inchcock Gerry: Why do you have days when you don’t want to wee-wee, then go bad at it, mate?

Bladder Inchock: Why? It’s obvious, innit? Anyway, I don’t want to confabulate!

Inchcock Gerry: But for two days, you’ve flowed freely, been considerate?

Bladder Inchock: Humph!

Inchcock Gerry: What’s up? I’ve been taking in the extra fluid. Now it must be gallons you hydrate?

Bladder Inchock: That bloody surgeon lasered me; no wonder I can’t concentrate and urinate!

Inchcock Gerry: You should be glad, freed of death! A bit of pain, indeed you can tolerate?

Bladder Inchock: Listen clever-clogs, weeing for me, is variable, strangulate, freeflow, then it may stagnate!

Inchcock Gerry: What? I make sure water does circulate…

Bladder Inchock: I have pain too, do you appreciate?

Inchcock Gerry: Well, I can only speculate!

Bladder Inchock: I send you messages beforehand, admittedly just a few seconds at times, but you also had cancer on my prostate!

Inchcock Gerry: Oh, that’s my fault too, is it? I did ruminate.

Bladder Inchock: I hate talking to a thicko like you – why didn’t you become a graduate?

Inchcock Gerry: Well, I was uneducated and got a job cleaning the sluicegate…

Bladder Inchock: Sod off! You were chasing girls on yer one rollerskate!

Inchcock Gerry: Times were bad back then…

Bladder Inchock: Other people Inchy, have a toilet inside, not going out into the backyard, and having to wait…

Inchcock Gerry: Trust you to be irritable as you postulate…

Bladder Inchock: Ha! So now you accuse me of having irritable bowel syndrome as you orate?

Inchcock Gerry: I’ve no idea what I’m doing talking to a bladder?

Bladder Inchock: You’d better shut up then cause you’re making me madder!

Inchcockski – Sunday 13th September 2020: Long, long day! But this phagomaniac made a decent meal for once!

TFZer Gal – Bootiful!

Sunday 13th September 2020

Spanish: Domingo 13 de Septiembre de 2020

13th September 1959: The first man-made Object (Luna 2) reaches the Moon!

About an hour after getting down to sleep, I woke to see the colourfulness and the brightness of the night coming through the thin, tatty, old, raggedy, multi-holed curtains. I could not resist fighting my way out of the recliner to take a photo of it. Lovely!

Around 00:50hrs, I woke again, in need of a wee-wee, and struggled to the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket), and struggled to pass what was maybe 2 or 3 fluid-ounces, over the next five minutes or so! Yes, another RSHH (Reluctant, Sprinkling-Half-Hearted) wee-wee! Hobbled to wash my hands, and then I got back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, non-operational, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery and unbalanced, positively-dangerous to use, rickety recliner, I soon nodded off again, which was pleasant and a change.

02:10hrs: I stirred into mock-life again, wanting another wee-wee. This time, catching my balance as I grabbed the stick, was a little more difficult, I’ve no idea why, but I got the bucket in time. It was an RSHH mode again, but with far less pain. The  Post-Micturition After Dribble lasted much longer than the main event did. Drip-drip, dribble, wait, sprinkle, drip… Tsk!

I could sense that things in the wee-weeing department were going to continue in the little-and-often style, so I emptied and sanitised the OGPEB, disinfected it and returned it to the computer room for later use. (And believe me, it saw plenty of action!). I’ll try to resist mentioning too many of them, it may sound too dull, but to me they were annoying. Each one was of deep luteous shade.

I remembered (Miracles do happen, then? Hahaha!) that the Falls-Team arranged delivery of a new walking frame was due to arrive today. So I got with doing the Health Checks sharpishly. The flipping SYS is still high!

The temperature, using the stick thermometer was the highest its been in many a month!

But that’s a good thing, I think anyway? I don’t think its too high at all.

I took a photo of the tablet trays, to show you how it is so easy to make a mistake in taking them. Although these pods were designed, to make it easier for we slightly more mature dodderers, and cut back on such errors. As you can see, the pills are all over the placed, many stuck under the covers, and others had moved into another compartment altogether! Many were stuck on the glue, others by the static electricity in the packaging. When they were first introduced, they told me they’d be fool-proof as well! Hah!

Obviously, they had forgotten about the well known locally ‘Special Skills’ of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up Mansfield Road, from the Lidl store.

I’d no idea what time of day the frame might come, so I got on with updating the Saturday post. Got it completed and Pinterested some snaps from it. Went on Facebook updating, then the same with the WordPress Reader. Emailed the link, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

I closed down Computer Cameron and got some hand-washing done, before doing the ablutions. The old oven grabbers were washed with the other stuff. I’ve still got the new gloves, but these although hard to clean, easy to dirty, and very old and tatty (a bit my me really, Hahaha!), they’re more effective and easier to hold onto when Shaking Shaun or Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters play up.

I had a bit of spontaneous breakfast after the washing was done, wrung and hung—cheese biscuits and a pot noodle, and off to the wet room for a scrubbing-up.

I needed a Porcelain Throne visit first. One of the easiest for a long time. Yee-Ha! Still painful, of course, but so much quicker than even yesterday’s was! A bit of blood, a smidge messy. Needed cleaning up before I took a shower, Haha!

But would the cistern clear things? No! I needed to hand-fill the tank a couple of times, and still, some bits were floating even then? Aggravannoying!

The ablutions were miraculously incident-free again! Not much bother from Toothache Terence, only one dropsy of the toothpaste tube! The shaving produced only two little nicks that did not bleed much at all. Doing the showering and only one mini-dizzy-spell, and three dropsies! Drying off went well, too!

Ah, well, the medicationalisation didn’t go as smoothly, I’m afraid. I thought that the rear-end furuncle was clearing up yesterday, I was wrong, and applied the ointment a little too roughly, and the blood flowed! So had to apply some Dakacort cream to get it to stop! I cunningly did this in the shower area and then sprayed-away the resulting blood flow mess using the shower-head. (Smart, eh? Smug-Mode-Adopted!) Harold’s Haemorrhoid’s done with the Germoloid cream, and Arthur Itis’s knees and hands with the Phorpain Gel. I felt rather good about how I coped these problems!

The leg ulcer, or Clopidogrel allergy markings, had spread-out but got fainter, and some new ones appeared on top of the right foot, below the base of the toes. The fresh ones looked like freckles. Ah, well, it stops me getting bored, Hehehe! 

I got the new PPs on, a pair of trousers, and the maroon zip-up shirt. The Sock-glide was given a sneer of contempt, as I left the wet-room.

Because I was not wearing any socks, and the vicious, finger bruising and crushing monstrosity, was again, not going to be used, and my digits and legs put at risk of injury once more! Not that it scares me, of course! Oh, no!

Then, I set-too making up some black waste bags, and put the Floor-Voting paper on them, so as not to forget to take them with me on the way out with the bags, to the Rubbish chute, and take the voting paper down to the lobby.

I got a face-mask on, and the items were carried by hand, using only the wooden walking -stick. For some unknown reason, at that time, I felt in a rather panurgic, ready-for-anything mood? Yes, it confused and baffled me as, why as well!

By the time I’d got out, and to the chute-room, unfortunately, things had changed quickly. I was all over the place with the walking stick, and must have appeared drunk to anyone who might have seen me? The old balance had gone to pot again. I got the bags in the chute alright though.

Then clouted my right elbow against the door frame, on the way out of the room!  A spot of turbidity in the brain as I waited for the lift down to the ground-floor lobby. By the time I’d got down to the ground floor, and into the main hall, my balance was a lot better, and the foggy-brain seemed to be clearing. What’s going on here?

I posted the floor colouring preferences sheet into the ballot box.

And again, with a renewed physical and mentally settled state, I got the lift back up to the flat.

Where, perversely, the semiobscurity returned to the brain and vagueness, a lack of concentration came over me. My memories of getting Josie’s meal prepared is a bit sketchy. I discovered later on that I’d forgotten to photograph it, yet everything from when I wheeled it to Josie’s door, is crystal-clear? We chatted a short while, and I returned to the flat’s kitchen to get the cleaning up done.

I was doing well again, and then almost flaked out. My body and mind told me to get down in the chair, and stay there; I checked that I had on Medical Alert Alarm wristlet, which I did. And I immediately nodded of fitfully. I kept on waking up with the sunshine coming through the thin, decrepit, holed, curtains. But, nodded back off almost straight away each time. I suddenly jumped awake, and felt a different person, back to my old self? I’ll put this on the questionnaire when it comes from the hospital.

But I was feeling fine, and got up to check on the potatoes in the slow-cooker, made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and got the computer back on to update this blog. And Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), were both being good to me! I couldn’t understand what had happened, but I was so happy that things had returned to semi-normal. Obviously, now a scepticism and uncertainty remained, a sort of fear that it might happen all over again. Whatever the heck it was?

The door chimes rang out. It was an NHS chappie, delivering the new narrower walker for me. He was in a rush, my EQ picked up on that. I remembered what Nurse Caroline had told me about not doing anything with it when it is delivered until she calls again on Wednesday. So I put it with the spare three-wheeler on the balcony. I never thought I’d use one of these! It was wider than I expected, and I didn’t cope very well with it, putting it on the veranda, at all.

Updated this blog again, and it is now hours beyond my usual head-down time.

But the need for some Diary TFZer top graphics is urgent, so I moved onto CorelDraw.

Decided to make another brew first, straight Glengettie this time.

Then took a snap of the sunshine, and returned to CorelDrawing at last.

I only got one graphic done, (Tsk!), and made the template for tomorrows, and the got the fodder sorted out. Better late than never!

Battered fish strips, slow-cooked potatoes halved, and a bit of butter and onion-salt sprinkled on them. Garden peas, and some of the delightful baby Piccalo tomatoes. A pot of raspberry ripple mousse from the freezer, thawed out as I as the meal, nicely!

Tired-out now, but I stayed alert enough to enjoy this feast. Deserving of a Flavour-Rating of 8/10.

Went to get the meal things soaking in washing up bowl, and took this photograph of the evening’s view.

Having been up for over 20 hours or so, and in a state of weariness that was high, even for me, I felt so sure that I’d nod-off within minutes of getting my head down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, puke-making beige coloured recliner. It was not to be!

Sweet Morpheous did eventually arrive, but it was gone midnight by then! At least I got around four hours of deep-sleep in, before waking up in urgent need of a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne. Ah, well, TTFN!