Inchcock Today Diary with Ode, Wednesday 8th June 2022:

Wednesday 8th June 2022

Good Morningski!

ODE TO START THE DAY

I believe I mentioned last week that the End was Nigh?
Putin’s not bothered about the world but keeps his eye…
On the Chinese, Americans and the FBI…
It is saveable? If so, how, when, by whom, and why?
If it is rescued, and I’m alive, I’ll slap my thigh…
But my hopes are not too high!

What are nations doing about Putin, the Cow?
Britain protested to the UN with a catty meow…
President Biden very nearly raised his left eyebrow…
Xi Jinping thinks the Ukraine war’s just a sideshow?
France stopped Russian imports, pickles and marrow!
Sweden is worried about dwindling numbers of sparrows…
No comment from rain-starved New Mexico…
Germanys Steinmeie, has gone off a furlough?
Inchie on the Porcelain Throne… had a follow-through!.

Odes that matter are not easy to write – So I wrote this one!

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

WEDNESDAY

0045hrs: I don’t know how I did it, but I’d worked through the night on blogging. It is now 04:00hrs, and I will try to get some sleep. The carer can wake me when they arrive. As soon as they are gone, I must get the ablutions done. Too early now cause of making a noise with the shower. Then get some sleep!

That didn’t last long! I’ve now been up for 22hours. For nearly an hour! Humph! Will I ever get some sleep! I got down in the recliner and drifted to sleep without any bother…

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out! Carer Richard arrived, a little concerned, when he looked at me. Apparently, I was pasty-looking and shaking. I told him I was just tired and why. Inquired about how his Diabetes course went. Alright, the lad said, which told me it wasn’t at all. Again he couldn’t stay too long; he had more calls to do. Gave I’m some treats, and he was off like an arrow from Robin Hood’s bow. Haha! I’d not yet got the computer going and thought it best if I got myself a good shower and shave first. A freshening up should sort me out. Then I can get some sleep… surely?

I made a right and proper mess of shaving duties today. The neck (3), earhole (1) and chin (2) all had a pretty cut or two by the time I’d finished. The Peripheral Pete’s shakes were very minor but still cut me. Showered without any nasty or painful injuries worth mentioning.

Although the regulation toe-stubbing took place as I started to do the next job. Midway through the rear-end Germoloiding, the landline burst forth…

I snapped the end car parkers as I checked the windows. Then gathered the blood pressure equipment needed for the readings to be discovered. This was when I realised I was still in the nude!!! Argh!.

Well, very nearly, that’ll do for me, I fank you! The results for the SYS 142. DIA 67 and the Pulse at 77 bpm were all in range.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) is made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was playing up a little, not wanting to work? Still, I got it on the third try.

I got the clothes nearby for after the ablutioning, stripped, shuddered at my reflection n the shiny kettle, and went into the wet room… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out again! It was Warden  Deana to do a wrist alarm battery check. I hope I’d put on some clothing before answering the door! But Dementia Doreen forbade me from recollecting when writing this bit of the blog many hours later.

Back to the wet room and got on with tasks of scrubbing up, teggies, shaving and a good shower. The ankles were not too good; they have been worse.

A struggle to get there before they rang off. I hoped it might be QMC hospital’s EENT about an appointment to get the cataract done… but no! It was a cold-caller whom I could not understand what she was saying. I rang-off.

I really must try to get some sleep again. But no! Esther rang and came in; I just got the pants on in time! It’s nearly noon, and I’ve seemed to have been getting delayed, sidetracked and discovered a plot to stop me from sleeping. Hehehe! And I have not even started on the blog yet!

Esther kindly brought some cord and rethreaded the jammie bottoms that had lost their own string. Bless her. She still talks to me from the other room. Har-Har!

I made a start on the Odeing for this blog. I’m so far behind again and getting self-irked about it! Another long day then; Gawd knows when I’ll get the job done. Interruptions all the time, or ailments delaying me – SLEEP – PLEASE!

I’ve got to get some kip so I can recharge to get this blog done… Around in circles, that’s me! Still, I foolishly thought, at least I’ve made a start on the Ode… Humph!

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out yet again! It was Esther coming back. She’d been to do it for a new client, and their vacuum had broken down, and she asked me if she could use mine. I realised the Hoover was already at the front door, so yes, no problem.

Surely now, I can get the Ode at least done? I checked on what I could have for my nosh, which looked like being eaten again in the early morning hours. With all the faffing about that’s going on. I made a brew of Thompson’s Signature tea and took a small cake from the fridge.

Back to the Ode writing, and… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out yet again! It was the postman. One of them was kind enough to press the buzzer when he delivered; it helped. The letter was from Nottingham City Homes, Asset Management Team, and Emma Brown. Telling us about an upgrade to the electrical fuse-boards. There will be interruptions to TV signals and laundry rooms. So, that told me two things. One; reason that the workers did not answer my cheery good morning the other day – Because it is an independent company (ECS) doing the work. And number two, now I know why I lost the TV signal thrice last week. Finally, I was making progress with the Odeing. Mind you, it was 16:00hrs by then. Keeping my concentration pretty well…

Esther returned again. To bring the vacuum back and thanked me for loaning it to her. No, bother, Esther, I said. Each week when she arrives, she takes out the plug on a towel airer to use it to recharge her mobile phone. And never puts the power back on… just a thought, like.

Carer Valerie arrived to sort the medications. Took the waste bag out with her. Boy, is it getting late now! Gragnangles! Definitely going to be another 24hr day.

Absolutely gorgeous clouds this evening. pareidoliaised, at my leisure, finding three figures in these beautiful clouds. An animal’s mouth and jaw, a tongue sticking out of a mouth and what looks like an iceberg to me. When I returned, not exactly full of fervour, to carry on with the blog, a weird happening happened to happen. Happenstance, one might say?

I saw dozens of seagulls flying left the right at about the same level, four or five times, through the balcony windows!

I hastened to get the Canon in hopes of getting photographs of the birds; they sometimes came close to the windows.

I sat in the recliner to have a drink of spring water, a nibble of some potato sticks, and, most importantly, to relax for a few minutes. But, No! As I got the camera turned on, the flock broke up and was long gone! Tsk! Then, something caught my eye that I’d not noticed before…

On the wall, where the electricians left a pretend made patching up job of the power-point they had knocked off of the wall, the uneven imitation plastering was showing me an ambiguous visual pattern. Hewn in the lumpy rough plastering.

I shan’t say what I can perceive in it, but I would love to know if you can visualise anything in it? Or is it just me and what?

Got ready to try and get some blogging done. And once more, the ♫ Oh Susana ♫ tone rang out from the door chime.

It was the pens being delivered. I tried them straight away. It said in the advert that they both had darker black inks and smoother, softer writing nibs. Brilliant! Best Biro’s I’ve ever used, and I can see the writing better now too.

I  titivated the Tuesday Diary, and I got that sent off. I know you are thinking, why has the dumbo not done this yet? Am I write? Erm… Right? Ask Doreen about Dementia? Hehe! I’d got myself into a pickle again mentally.

I made up some spring water bottles, added a drop of orange or lime cordial to each one, and put them on the ottoman’s tray. Also, fill a pot with some potato chip nibbles for later.

I took these close-up too the kitchenette window shots of pattering down rain. That came on quickly; the sunshine was blasting through the curtains a few seconds ago. (They are a bit thin!)

Carer Valerie arrived and got the medications sorted out. We even managed a little chinwagging tonight!

I got the nosh sorted out. I’m afraid it was not one of the more successful or tasty meals I’ve ever made or eaten. Not by a long chalk! The Morrison’s potatoes letters made sure of that. They were abysmally tasteless! The cheese & onions pasties were not too bad. The peas and mushrooms left over from yesterday were passable. The pot of strawberry cheesecake was nice. Overall, a dismal 5.5/10 Flavour rating!

Well, that was better. Almost solid this time. But I’ll not get too excited.

Into the kitchen to get some of the marvellous tasting No-Moo brand ice cream to nibble.

The view from the window was most impressive. Although it was not bright or vivid, the hues and shades were, to me, anyway, reminiscent of oil paintings. Which started me off thinking about how amazing Mother Nature can be… and I forgot to get the ice cream from the fridge for my evening snack. Grobbleturds!

Washed the pots, had a rare wee-wee, not that much sprinkled painfully out. Then I got down in the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, uncomfy, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner.

And to my satisfaction and pleasure, I fell asleep within seconds!

Only to shoot awake with a jump a couple of minutes later! Grumblecronknackers! Graptitties! Schluberdubers! Globblegripes! and Grangleboggleisations! Naturally, the sudden awakenings continued for hours! Varying twixt after two minutes and ten!

Not All Sleep Is Restorative
By Raj Dasgupta, MD

Experts continue to study the sleep process, but they’ve found evidence to suggest your body & brain perform a lot during sleep, including muscle repair, protein synthesis, & tissue growth.

Oh, Good!

I got up and went back to blogging – Humph!

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 & Ode Sat 28th May 2022

MEANDERING MORNING ODE

That should be befuddlement. Ahem!

Looking Back…
In my 20’s, I was known for my efficient fecundity…
Now due to Doreen’s Dementia, I fear discongruity,
I was fit, capable, popular, lit up a room fulgently…
The mind and body fail, leaving inefficacity,
I was praised for my willpower and social feracity!
Now, I am full of inconsequentiality, inferiority,
Decisions were made, taken almost nonchalantly…
Now my brain’s shared twixt dormancy, quiescently,
The few decisions I make now, I do negligently!

The Ailments…
The ailments increasing, I try to meet acceptingly.
When they first started, I reacted rather petulantly…
Some of the new ones give me hassle persistently,
Glaucoma Gladys, Cartilage Cathy & Cataract Kathy,
One that can be nasty is Peripheral Neuropathy…
Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters can have me falling,
Deaf Duane in both ears, Duodenal Donald, appalling!
Saccades Sandra, makes me see blurry,
The ankle gives way after the Stroke every day.
Hard to keep my balance, but I recover gradually…
The jumping away can have me off of the settee!

On Reflection…
There’s no benefit in moaning and grumbling,
If you’re going to go over, it’s only tumbling…
How hard and where you fall can leave you bleeding…
But a scrape and a bruise is the likeliest thing…
Somehow, I get through them without hospitalising,
I must have had more luck without realising…
At five, I was thrown into the canal, nearly drowning,
I’ve been shot twice and got a battering…
How I’m still here is somewhat baffling…

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

SATURDAY 28TH MAY

04:20hrs: After so many jumping awakes, I had my last one. I was fed up with not sleeping for more than ten minutes or so and got up for a wee-wee. Which proved to be the reason I stayed up…

① Getting the jammie bottoms untied to whip them down, I got in a right mess. The waste cord knot was not to be unknotted!

There I was, fumbling to get the cord untied, and the pre-dribbling started! The embarrassment and panic of the warm wet sensation trickling down my inner legs and jammies made unlocking the knot even harder to get done… I gave up and forced things down… But there was worse to come…

③ I felt the pain as I got over the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and the bladder was hurting. It felt, to me, like a torrent as if a fireman’s hosepipe was being released… But no! On closer inspection, it was barely trickling, and what bit was coming out sprayed all over the place! But there was worse to come…

④ I saw the blood on my hands as I manipulated things to avoid my having splashes on the carpet.

⑤ Yes, Little Inches Fungal Lesion was bleeding; I suppose all the rushing and pulling to get the cord freed. A little naughty language was uttered. But there was more to come…

⑥ Due to the mixture of waste liquid and blood, I wiggled more than walked with the bucket to get it emptied and sanitised. As I got in the kitchen, I stubbed my toe on the server trolley wheel. But there was still more to come…

⑦ After cleaning the bucket, and getting another one with Dettol disinfectant, to clean up the overspray and spillages in the front room, I turned and knocked the Dettol bottle off the side of the sink. I’ve known one of those plastic bottles to split open before! Cleaned it up, and as if a robot… a disheartened robot, went to clean the front room. Which I managed without any further bother… until…

⑧ I went to take the jammies off and soak them in disinfectant and washing powder. And the need to visit the Porcelain Throne arrived. I wasn’t done with cock-ups yet…

⑨ I knocked my toe against the clothes airer’s wheel, and it was possibly the most excruciating stub ever! I could feel the bile rising now!

⑩ I got in and down on the seat, watching the blood drip from Little Inchies lesion, but there was no pain coming from it? More confusion! The evacuation was reluctant to start, so O got the cream and washed and ointmentated the lesion as I waited for the action to start, back onto the Throne. A sudden spurt, and it was all over in seconds… But what a mess to clean up! Almost liquid! So, I got on with the job, rinsed the jammie bottoms and put them back in a fresh bucket of antiseptic. Then I cleaned my nether regions and got new PPs (Protection Pants).

The relief when I’d got everything sorted was phenomenal. I even think I started singing… Cliff Richard’s ♫’The Young Ones’♫. I believe it was the first one.

I’d come out of it well, really. Apart from the fungal lesion now starting to hurt and Harold’s Haemorrhoids stinging. The stubbed toe had died down, and I put the kettle on.

Self-Satisfied…

That was a rather nasty, severe start to the day,
Believe it or not, the memory is now far away…
I coped and managed, my recovery well underway,
In fact, I’m pleased with myself, I can honestly say!
I got through it all, my depression flewaway!
Mind you, I’m expecting the next coming malady…
There are bound to be more, as there is every day,
No signs of my moaning-mopes left or paranoia!
But the wee-wees stay, frequently with overspray…
I genuinely think this may be a better Saturday!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –.

I got on the computer and loaded the pictures for yesterday’s blog updating and got it done. Very late now, and no carer yet? Ah, it’s the weekend, I forgot. Usually late Sat and Sun.

I took some photos, but the SD reader has gone on strike again, Humph!

Aha! This morning’s Carer was Sara! I was already cheered up with the disasters of this morning finishing; this gave me an extra boost in spirits, Sarah coming. A lovely gal likes a natter, and she is responsive. ☻♥ Got the medications sorted; Sarah always watches me take them if I drop any or one comes back up. She knows I’d likely not see or notice if they did, Bless her. I wish they all did that.

I said my farewells, and my mood lowered a smidgeon when she left, but it was still higher than for ages. I had considered going into a Smug-Mode with getting through the early morning cacophony of cock-ups… but resisted,

I’d better go on the WordPress Reader and comment section now.

How disappointing… Makes me sick!

.

Can’t get on WordPress Comments or save owt! I gave up and got some nosh made. Battered red potato fritters, tomatoes, veg burger and banana to follow. The cakes were too sweet for my taste, but I ate them all. Rated: 7.2/10.

My luck really is changing from this morning. Went to get the ablutions tended to; better late than never. Just one cut shaving, nowt serious, and few dropsies (razor x 2, toothbrush, loofah, and short-picker-upperer), but I had the short picker-upperer to hand. No knocks, dizziness, headbangs, toe-stubbing, Shaking-Shauns, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, or shoulder charging the door frame!

Got dressed so I looked reasonably sane for when the Carer called. (I’ve made a vow not to be naked. Topless or bottomless again, when a nurse or Carer arrives! I’ve been caught with no trousers on by Nicola and no top on by Valerie up to now – Tsk!) I can lock the door and strip off after whoever comes has gone.

I tried the computer again, and it let me load some photographs to my delight. But VDD (Vascular Dementia Doreen) is making it hard for me to recall the time when I took them, although some are obvious. I got them into CorelDraw to resize. And…

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in walked the evening Carer, Sarah (With an H). She soon sorted the medications, and I insisted she take a tipple and a nibble in; thanks to her. Which she did and took the waste bag out to the chute for me on her way

I locked the door and stripped off, feeling much easier now. Funny how all the cock-ups were got rid of in the early hours today; I’m pleased with that! Then got the photos; some I could remember were put on roughly chronologically. Others I’ll show here:

Rescued Photographs…

Obviously, I must have taken these two in the early hours, although I can’t remember taking them now?

VDD playing me up again. I suppose it is possible I got up during the night to take these? They cost me a lot of time tweaking to get them to be recognisable as what they are.

A mid-morning picture of the end car park on Chestnut Way, mayhaps, taken from the balcony, no doubt. I vaguely recall not being able to open the spring lock on the window and taking it through the glass pane.

I’m sure I had a paranoia moment with this one. I think I could see a face in the central cloud, but it seems to be hiding from me now. Such a shame. I could see a face and a monster in it on the right with this effort. At the time, I think another animal, but that too had been removed by VDD (Vascular Dementia Doreen). This last one of the trio on the left, which held several pairs of eyes and noses when I took it, still does, but somehow far fewer are found?

Ah, the expensive sweet potato battered fritters meal. I did eat it all. But the oversweetness of the potatoes took the edge off it. I already wrote about this, haven’t I? Humph!

Proof of my dedication to losing some fat from my midriff area. Where folds of fat, as it wobbles at the slightest movement. This on the left; was my last inside photograph taken today. It shows my bravely self-imposed limit; I’m allowing myself to nibble chocolate! With crumbs dropped from my nocturnal nibblings in the £300 second-hand, ageing, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working, recliner, cling in the channels of blubber.

No more supposedly well-intended, opening a bar of chocolate, working on the computer, thinking, “Ah, I’ll have another lump of that chocolate” – and finding it had all gone! No More – Never-Again! I have complete faith in my determination to lose weight from my substantively gross belly! Four pieces maximum from now on!

Sleep was stubborn and refused to allow me to nod off. Sweet Morpheus teased me as it got later, and would permit me to drift off, then minutes late startle into wakefulness with a jump! So, I got up and pottered about in the kitchen, taking photos of the changing evening view from the kitchenette window. I spotted some figures in clouds, particularly in the second photo. Not that I can see it now. Humph! Thanks, Doreen Dementia! The close up I took of the orange ribbon of light did not come out very well at all. But I’ve put it on anyway. To show the changing views on offer tonight. The last effort, about ten minutes after the one before, I did like it. Had more contrasting hues and colours, I thought. Back into the recliner, hoping to sleep…

But, Oh, No! Not a chance. So I looked at what was on the TV, and ‘Sudden Impact’, a Dirty Harry film with Clint Eastwood, was just starting. During the first set of commercials, I got some chip-sticks and a bottle of spring water to feast on, got back in the c1968 second-hand recliner, and settled to watch and enjoy the film. I love it when the goodies win! As the next set of adverts came on… Zzzz!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, 22nd May 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inchcock Today: Ode & Diary – Saturday 15 May 2022

Approached creating this ode quite guiltily…
My ideas for it were whimsical, bonkers, delusionary…
I pressed on all the same, but involuntarily…
For Alto-Inchy was taking the piss at me,
If it comes out passable, I’ll have to be lucky…
So, I hope to avoid getting any vilipendency!
Will it get boos? Or be received gladly?
Here I go… I’ll have to wait and see…

Last night’s Porcelain Throne visit showed sanguinolency,
I had to clean things quickly, with no time to dilly-dally.
Cleaned, medicated the fungal lesion, piles, cuts, that’s three…
Pain, medicating the lesion send me cranky,
And Harold’s Haemorrhoids too, it took me a while,
Good job that I’ve got many a mans-nappie!

It’s Alto Inchie writing this verse; Inchcock did insist!
But, things got nasty for Inchy, the lyricist…
Stubbed his toe and started to update his word list…
He spent many hours on it, needed a wee, but had to desist…
Went to hit the save icon, and I missed…
Lost the file, and he sank to his saddest…
He almost cried; it must have been hard to resist…
Then he sank further and got depressed!

I lost six hours trying to get back my lost writing…
Couldn’t find it; I was confused, lost and dithering,
My previous determination started withering…
Duodenal Donald kicked off; it was appalling,
The whole incident was depressing and galling!
I believe that I was so low, beyond consoling…
I wondered, what’s the next thing that’ll need bungling?

Alto Again: It was sad to see Inchy being nigglier,
His computer works are getting much messier…
He didn’t look well. He seemed to me pastier…
The outlook for him to finish this ode is murkier,
And even he’s not usually a shirker, but a worker…
I can see in his eyes that he’s getting lower…
No point in talking to him until he feels betterer,
Hello, his door chimes rang out, in came a Carer…
He turned sourly around to see who it was, looking peakier,
His face lit up, his smile radiated, for it was Carer Sarah!
I could tell that he’d immediately got feeling friskier!

It was Carer Sarah who came to do me today,
This cheered me up, I have to say…
I lost all signs of acting acidulously…
Lovely gal, pretty and chatty,
I began to feel once again, altruistically,
I hope she comes again on Sunday!

Alto: Inchie knackered his computer and got in a shaking panic,
The idiot’s actions and bungled repairs were catastrophic,
He had trouble concentrating and was mnemic…
His moods all day were somewhat chameleonic.
Inchcock’s plans and thoughts were all semantic…
Yet he seemed to be taking it all phlegmatic…
In fact, he ended up feeling somewhat apathetic?
Then he found his legs had gone all phlebitic!
This is why some folks, quite rightly, consider him pilgarlic!.

Diary Saturday 14th May 2022

05:00hrs: I woke up with my bum half off of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. The right leg on the floor, the left one on the arm of the recliner? A position that I could not physically get into on my own, even if someone offered me a million pounds to do it? Painfully I got my bum back up on the cushion, then tackled the left leg retrieval task! Have you seen that programme on the telly Truck Hell, where they have to retrieve HGVs after a crash? That’s like the task I had on.

I got it freed and the foot down on terra firma. Hehehe! It took me half an hour to achieve it.

Then, I noticed the right leg only had suffered a vein explosion. The first photo is of the front of the leg. I had a good look at it. There were no pains from the veins. Then I wondered about the back of the right leg. Got the Canon camera again and took a blind picture.

Aha, more veins showing through? On a closer look at the photograph, later on, it looked to me that last time, the surgeon who did them had left his name tattooed on the leg? Hehe! I’ll put this one on more prominent than usual to see what you think. It’s on the top right of the picture. Wonder what it is?

Ah, well, better get up; the Carer may be calling soon… and…

As I stood up to catch my balance, I knocked the camera off of the ottoman. I went into the bathroom to ready things for the ablutioning later on, and took this snap of the new marks on the face, this time! Then tried to take another snapshot of the morning view, but the camera didn’t have it. Sob!

It seemed to take the photo, but nothing was getting put on the SD card to view, other than this one and the legs? Miffed off, now! Another blog without many pictures, Humph!

I made up some waste bags, mashed a brew and got on the computer. And the morning carer appeared without ringing the buzzer and made me jump. Haha! Carer Sara was a pretty young thing, and she was sociable. ♥

On with the blog. I finished the update two hours later and posted it on Facebook. Went on Facebooking. Then the WP Reader, and comment reading and replying to.

The usual for the weekend. An increase in Herbert’s noise level. On and off all day, at times, I thought he must have hurt himself with the clanging and banging. At times, I could hurt him myself!

Got on with the Ode template for Saturday’s blog. But a disaster befell me…

I used two pages of saved words on Notepad and got on with selected suitable or better options. And the Peripheral Pete’s Neurotransmitters failed, as Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked in simultaneously. There was controlling my movements at all.

The arm shot across the keyboard with the left clicker pressed firmly down, hitting various keys as it went to my left, knocked the SD reader flying as the connector broke off, and it was all over in seconds, but it did a lot of damage, and worst of all, I lost all my words in the two files!

I then spent the following hours of the day trying to understand what the warning messages that came up meant and trying everything within my limited knowledge to find the missing files. No such luck! Photos not going on again.

Made a large meal and ate it all. Wee-wee. Carer Valerie called. Head down, but foolishly tried to watch a Dirty Harry film on the box… I did, in a way, but in about 25 episodes, I watched one each time I woke up and nodded off again!

Cheers!

Inchcock Today: Rescued Photographs and Diary

RESCUED PHOTOGRAPHICALISATIONS

Ode to the last few days… It’s been a struggle!

Worra job, fighting the SD card reader, t’was pathetic!
Four days of failing, it was terribly acrostic…
Three or six times a day, I tried and was feeling threnetic,
The neighbour was noisy; I resisted any rhetoric,
Cause I could have hit him with my mashie-niblick!
But at least his noise today is only sporadic.

I know that I’m uneducated, got dementia, and am thick…
But repeated failings to get the piccies on… I felt sick…
Got some of them on today, and then I felt fantastic…
But once out of five days? Proves I’m no clever dick…
But my moods are temporary, changing, erratic…
I can be depressed, then minutes later, charismatic?

Sometimes, well, rarely, I can believe I’m being realistic…
But then consider myself unreliable and eccentric…
Other times concentration can be enjoyed, therapeutic…
But it’s only me being toying with hopes, being simplistic.
Hopes for improvement in mental health and lethargic,
Ever new problems with neurotransmitters and neuralgic.

I don’t expect that life’s ailments or mental logic,
A problem is I’m my own worst critic,
To expect to get back to normal is unrealistic…
I anticipate daily pains and struggles… am I masochistic?
That’s not the word I mean; I do feel a dick…
I somehow cope well with pain that’s chronic?

But not with Peripheral Neuropathy, or owt anapeiratic,
I manage with being deaf and arthritic,
Not Doreen Dementia, who denies anything copacetic…
I try not to get depressed or apathetic,
I can often laugh it off, then I find it all too dramatic,
I cannot cope; I find it all too frantic!

Having got rid of the depressive rot, onward…

Not sure what day this blood test was done, but I’ll hazard a guess on Saturday. To think, a couple of days earlier, the SYS was 208! Noe down to the second-lowest ever! Hehe! I’m not complaining, mind you.

And the body temperature, well, another fantastic result. Almost spot on the target figure (NHS) of 35°c!

I can remember taking this temperature, although not the day – because I dropped the thermometer, bent down to retrieve it, and clouted my head against the corner of the chair. And knocked the camera off of the table, and it would not work for a day or so, Tsk!

This I recognise quickly enough, along with the error I made doing it…

I’d made the nosh for Josie, as usual on a Sunday. Got it just right tastewise, and delivered it to her door at the agreed time of midday, feeling rather smug, with her treats for the weekend on the tray. Josie said nothing out of the usual. But I did an odd look from the gal… had I done something wrong? Mmm!

When I got back to my flat to start my dinner, it came to me… It was Saturday! Not Sunday! I felt such a berk!

I got my fodder served up. Vegetable pastie. Green and black grapes, garden peas, baked potatoes, lemon yoghourt. It was lovely. I granted the meal a taste-Rating of 8/10.

I’ve no idea why I took the picture whatsoever? I think it was on Saturday that I was having problems with the computer, other than the usual regular temper and sanity-testing card reader.

This night (Saturday maybe), the sky seemed a smidge misty with it during the sunsetting process.

I stayed up late to catch it and took these two relatively poor photographicalisations from the kitchen windows.

Saturday night, I think, possibly, mayhaps, if not, then Sunday…

I had a bad bleed from Little Inchies Fungal lesion.

Sunday, I think these results are from. And a fine set of figures they were. Sys 144, DIA 54 (A little low, maybe, but no worries about this), the pulse showed 83.

Well, blow me down, another good reading from my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Dang, close to perfect for the third day!

Ah, my beloved puffer clouds were up in the sky for me to picture them. I recall taking these pictures and suddenly needing the Porcelain Throne, so off I trotted without any delay…

I was sitting on that plastic seat in there for over 25 minutes! I also took a Codeine afterwards to ease the sore bum from the concrete torpedo; I’d just grindingly released with a Clonk of a noise when it landed in the bowl! Constipation Conrad had won the competition against his competitor Trotsky Terence by several lengths. Still, I got a few clues answered in the crossword book.

Another sort of cloudy, hazy sunset that night. Of course, I have no idea what night it was, Sunday or Monday, I imagine.

Buttered tatties, tomatoes, fish fingers, fishcakes with mushy peas inside, and battered fish fingers, Birds Eye as well, and they were crap tasting! Some grapes, and I see the milk roll slices, which was excellent cause I could mask the cardboard taste of the Birds Eys battered fish fingers a little by the bread. Eurgh! The potatoes were undercooked, but they were cooked bu a grand chap (Me!) Hahaha! Flavour: 5/10.

Tuesday’s nosh, this was more like it. There are tons of garden peas, tomatoes, tattie chunks, yellow and red tomatoes, and two sizeable battered fish portions. This fish in batter tasted a lot better than the last Birds Eye ones.

Unfortunately, the rest of the meal was a disappointment, well, crap again, actually! The bananas had gone oversweet with age, the potatoes tasteless, and the peas were bitter and sour. The tomatoes were fair enough. Flavour: 5.5/10.

Wednesday: The Iceland order arrived. I was unsure what to expect after they sent me the chinks that had gone green last week. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me and got his choice of cans in thanks. Three items were not available, and two substitutions, but at least they had better dates on them this week. I got the bags unloaded, doing the freezer and fridge items first.

Tried some of their veggieburgers and pies this time. Frozen, of course, and had a job to get them into the fridge and freezer. The substituted tomatoes were Italian ones, So maybe a disappointment. We’ll see. They usually are but compared to last week’s Algerian ones…

The substituted Richmond sausages, Carer Richard, can have in the morning.

Well, yet another fine set of results from the Health Checks! Sys 133, Dia 70, Pulse 69 (A smidge low again), Then I got the thermometer out.

Brilliant! Four days now since the 248 SYS reading, Yee-Haa! Anyone’s guess is how long these promising results will go on for.

Gong to get some nosh on now. Hopefully, I can make something worthwhile and tasty this time.

Got the chips in the oven. And noted the popularity of the Chestnut Way end car park – And no red-van-man is on sight. Unless he’s parked elsewhere than his favourite spot on the yellow no parking chevrons?

The evening Carer arrived, Valerie (Nibbles). Sorted the medications and took the bag to the chute on her way out.

Got the burnt chips based nosh finished and served up. Do you know, they tasted super-good and so tasty! At last, a decent rated meal. A burger on a cob, tomatoes, and garden peas. For afters, a mini strawberry cheesecake and a banana. Taste Rating: 9/10!

The Amazon ordered slippers arrived a little late on. Thanked the driver and offered his choice of canned refreshments.

I didn’t open the bag yet, I’ll do that in the morning, but I could tell I was going to be disappointed by the shape of the package. It felt more like a giant teddy bear inside than footwear. Squashed up and no doubt well-misshapen. Hey-Ho!

I was deprived of getting to sleep again, can’t blame the Thought-Storms this time – Thoughts of all kinds and types were absent! I was not depressed, just in a passive, what-the-heck mood. Although hours later, after failing to nod off, the darned Thought-Storms did kick off. The long done and gone mistakes I’d made flourished about in my head, seemingly in amazing chronological order? Around 02:20hrs, I put the TV on, a desperate measure… but it seemed to work… Until I sprang awake at 04:00hrs!

The Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe

Inchcock Senses Alto-Egos Presence!

Alto-Inchy nearly became visible!

.

What the hell are you on about?

Do you believe in the Morlocks?

No…

Bet yer don’t know who they are?.

I couldn’t give a sod who they are or ain’t.

A simple question, no need to gerrall upset abarght it, me old fruit…

Oh, frug-off! I don’t know where you’ve been, but the last three days have been heaven without you! Wherever you’ve been, can’t yer sod-off back to it…

No, no, no… I’ve been visiting the Morlocks, and I am the first Alto-Ego to do so!

Bollocks!

Ah! Yer see, you really don’t know who the Morlocks are then, do you?

I told you I couldn’t give a rats arse about who they are; why do you want me to know about them, whoever they are? I think…

Ah, but yer doesn’t think, that’s why you’re missing out so much… No! Let me finish…

Oh, go on then… let’s have it…

Well, you smarty-pants know-nothing. The Morlocks inhabit the earth’s inner and underside… and have done for longer than any tellurian life forms have, even before…

Is this going to take long? Only I can feel the need for a crap coming on… which will mean I’ll have had two loads of crap today… Hahaha!

Look Dumbo! This is important; I’m not kidding either. This could benefit both of us, and we can have a lifetime of fame… Well, fair enough, not you, you’re about to snuff it anytime now, at least I’ll be the most famous Alto-Ego ever…

I’m not interested nor bothered about dying – that’s cause you, yer foul-breathed bully Alto, have made me this way. With yer constant putting me down, decrying me, making me so depressed, frustrated and angry, fed-up with failures, this never happened before I found you lurking in my body and mind!

Well, that’s so nice of you to say so, and admit it too! I may have misread you a little. To know that you appreciate all my efforts to maintain your grumpiness, self-hatred and demoralised at all times – I think I

I’ve got to admit it; you’ve done a cracking job. So, go on, tell me about visiting the Morlocks then…

They told me how I could gain some visibility to humans! The Morlocks could see me clearly all the time… but I didn’t like that. I couldn’t sneak upon them, and they knew where I was all the while. No, I shan’t be returning to see them again. Thank heavens, tellurians don’t have this ability! But this gaining part-visibility is excellent! Again, I have supreme and individual capabilities that no other Alto-Ego has! Meaning I can scare the living daylights out of my current human, that’s you, of course. And learn to go fully visible with a bit of training. Of course, your time is nearly up, so I might go a little easy on you cause we’ve been pals for a long time now, and…

‘Ode on mush! Let me get a hold of this. You’re using me as a guinea-pig to practice yer visibility training? After telling me how much yer appreciate my help? You’ll likely give me a heart attack, and my limited time will be shorter…

Oh, yes, did you not see the outlines of weapons on me when I arrived? You should have; I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t, cause I wanted…

Screw you! You scumball! How would you feel of you had a limited life span? You’ve destroyed my self-confidence and frustrated and depressed me; I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t responsible for giving me Vascular Dementia… Ah! You were laughing at me, you horrible Alto-Ego! I just got a glimpse of an outline of the form you’ve taken…

Keep it cool, man! Well, I say man… Hehehe! No need to start getting new abilities now. You’ve got little time left to use ’em anyway! Why gerrupset? At long last, you’ve worked out that Alto-Egos distribute such ailments… Hold on, yer going red in the face now, that’ll do yer no good, Inchcock!

Why the pluck do you want to give innocent humans a mind-crippling thing like dementia? Are you telling me that you Altos are responsible for the ailment?

Of course, we are, Blunderbrain! It’s the easiest thing for us to inflict on humans – that’s why so many of you get it. Gawd, you’re thick! I mean, it’s not exactly easy, cause when we pass it on to you, we’ve got to wait twenty years before we find out if it has been successful or not, so you must appreciate, we have done it for our own good, yer see…

Gragnangles! How does yer work that out then?

Oh, Inchcock, you are so sad. You cannot see what’s happening at all, can yer?

Worrya mean?

Look at your ailment graphic above, and that’s not got the Kathleen Cataracts, Glaucoma Gladys, or Doreen Dementia on it yet, has it?

Well?

Listen, what’s yer worst worry, not counting being deaf, and can’t see much? Go on; I’ll wait while you muse over it…

Erm, not counting being deaf and can’t see much?…

That’s what I said, no rush, take yer time Inchcock; not too long, cause yer ain’t got a lot of time left, have you?

I’m trying to think here; I don’t need you confusing me more…

Exactly my point!

Wot?

I’ll keep quiet; let you work it out then…

Ponders: Erm, Duodenal Donald and Bladder Belinda have been bad today… Cathies Cartilage and Peripheral Pete have been playing up for a day or two… Dizzy Dennis and Sock Glide Brenda have had me over at the weekend…

Then, I scratched my head in the wet room, and it bled a lot… but I’ve since found out the Warfarin INR blood count was a little out of range; they’ve changed the dosages now.  Summat happened on Friday, what was it? Oh, yes, The blood pressure sys went up to SYS 205 and DIA 88, and the Pulse had gone up to 97 bpm. I remember that. And having in the right eye (red-eye) subconjunctival haemorrhaging, which cleared up after two three-a-day days of eye drops? Ah, that’s summat I’d forgotten about. I must ask for some more of the eye drops. Colin Cramps has visited me for the last five nights, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion has been bleeding… and wee-weeing is painful, and sprinkle at the moment. A good job is that I’ve got a large stock of PPs (Protection Pants) in-store in the wet room to use. But Harold’s Haemorrhoids are stinging more lately but not bleeding as often as they usually do… Although the change in the INR level might be causing the bleeding on the arm after a blood taking session?

Even so, forgetting things is mayhaps the worst thing, so it’s Dementia, Doreen?

Yes, Alto, are you still there?

Aye, I’m waiting for you to tell me that it’s Dementia Doreen; that is the worst worry you have!

Well, pickle-my-walnuts! How did you know that?

All part of Alto-Inchie plan and design matey! By giving you Doreen to keep you worried, see how all the other ailments fade into the background?

I’m not sure… I suppose there might be summat in wot you say…

Even my being here, like it or not, takes your mind off of the ailments a smidgeon!

Yea… but we always end up disagreeing, which is not good, is it?

Or, is it indeed?

Anyway, hours ago, I asked you why you had a weapon with you. Well, why?

Just showing off what I learned from the Morlocks, Inchcock. Don’t fret; they are not real weapons. I don’t need them…

Har-Har! What you mean is you cannot fire them… you do not have the capability or physical skills needed to shoot them, innit?

No need to get sarkie with me, mate! It’ll only get me going making you feel tiny, a fool, an idiot, incapable of manual sex, mini-cocked, bald, socially unacceptable, pot-bellied, uncouth, smelly, repugnant, despondent, uneducated, lonely, miserable, uncouth, ugly, uncultured, underprivileged,  scatterbrained, and pestiferous. Deserving of condemnation or execration… a totally pathetically inept old, repugnant fart, unwanted and uncared for, a coffin-seeking has been, who…

Has yer finished yet?

For now, yer!

Oh, good. I shall not return the insults, just suggest you go forth and multiply. Hopefully, with you never returning again…

Hahaha! The only reason I’ll not come again will be when you are dead, so keep on wishing, dumbo!

Oh! See yer anon then; in the morning, Alto?

Cheers, cocker!

A much confused Inchcock got ready for bed, did his ablutionalisationing, and climbed into his £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a recliner. And once again sensed the presence of Alto-Inchie, watching him ready for a verbal attack… As if prearranged, they started on a rhyme-a-line verbal battle…