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…

Oh, you back again, come to lickspittle?

See that, no welcome again. Is your nastiness congenital?

Worrever yer want, be quick, cause I need a pittle…

Why can’t you be a little more angelical?

Cause I’m trying to sleep, and along comes you with your prattle…

Oh, that’s nice, to cheer you up I call twice…

Pig-off Alto, you’re the nasty one. Not nice!

Well, me helping you must come at a price!

Sod-off, I’d sooner be visited by lice!

I only came to tell you what day it was, Christ!

I think you are definitely agathokakological!

Your wording is anti-logical…

Tommyrot, you know that I’m sociological…

More like demonological!

Do you know what the words mean you are using?

Well, not all of ’em, but I find it amusing…

Amusing? I cannot allow you any of that, or contentment, entertaining, or smiling!!!

Was not? I’m just asking…

You nitwit, it’s the reason for my being, to cause you pain, confusion and much inconveniencing…

You do that alright, with your constant word-mincing…

Doreen Dementia has got to you again; you’re word misplacing and mispronouncing!

You horrible Alto-Ego, I wish I could give you a trouncing!

Well, that’d be better than us kissing…

Can’t we just calm down and start pleasantly talking?

Nae, you’d only start grumping, moaning and trumping…

That my unwanted, human-hating antisocial Alto would be due to your tormenting!

Well, I have no morals or body, like you who are in a state of decay…

Hey, hey, hey! You’re having a dig at me again. Oh, lackaday!

A?

A? Are you referring to my doomsday!

Yea! When you snuff it into the ether, your body and mind will stray…

No salvation, just nothing forever and a day…

You might try to pray…

But you’re faithless, right or wrong, who is to say?

Your end is nigh, and it makes me sigh; you could be dead by midday! Hahaha!

At least your fatty body will waste away…

Oy, Alto, You are betting sarky and bitchy!

Yes, thank you, it’s just my way…

I suppose I’ve led my life abstemiously…

That’s the spirit; at least your painful, pathetic, sad, pointless existence was led altruistically…

Altruistically? I’ll check that on the online dictionary…

Don’t waste your time Inchcock; your lack of education left you with a mental block…

And what about forgetting things, losing time, dates, days, keys, codes and the odd-sock?

You’ve not had a lot of luck, have yer? Remember when you were conned by the financial Shylock?

Aye, and being shot twice, made redundant three times, heart failure, Mother running away, ending up in the dock?

Duodenal Donald, going deaf, poisoned, being treated with lice, Shock after shock…

There’s a lot of my history you seem to know, Alto? Have you always had access to my memory box?

Oh, yea! From the go, mate. The first word I heard on this assignment was your Mam’s when she said to the midwife, “I don’t want it; throw it in the Trent!”

Cor, you heard it all, so it was true then, but that’s no consolement.

Aye, I saw it all, the fights twixt yer parents, the police collecting Mam for trial and imprisonment…

Oh, and the tin bath hanging outside on the wall in the yard, outside coal house and toilet, you getting bullied at school… yer life then wasn’t exactly suent!

You having your heart broken by Grizelda, playing truant…

Your fumbling attempts with Mavis from the end house when drunk…

Alright! Enough! Imperfect as my memory is, there are some things I’d like to forget, many a stunt…

Now, here you are 70 odd years later, done-in, pissed off, disabled, and languescent…

I remember the happy times when I lived in digs on Wilford Crescent; my life was incandescent!

Me too; I had a bit of a fling with another Alto…

Ah, but yer couldn’t have sex together, though?

Too true, but it was bliss, till she had to go… so sad though…

Why? Let your story flow…

Do you remember a geordie in the digs by the name of Joe?

I certainly do; that was sad. Heart attack, Joe died as he laid a double-six domino…

. Well, my affair of sorts was with Joe’s Alto-Ego…

She was transferred and assigned to another human called Domingo.

Wilford Crescent was good for me, bad for you, but there you go…

Yes, I lost concentration while Alto-Ego Christine was around… my making you miserable and depressed was not so profound…

I never thought of you as being capable of loving anyone…

Yes, to me, from her backside, the sunshine shone!

Which sounds emotional, as she didn’t have one…

What?

Arse!

Inchies Tips & Advice for Whippersnappers, Ablutionalisationings & Medicalisationings

ADVICE & TIPS ON FUTURE AILMENTS TO COME

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MedPhorpain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think I got carried away there, sorry!

Inchcock Today: Tues 5th April 2022 – Introductory Ode!

Inchcock Today

Introductory Ode!

All Inchies’ plans, hopes, desires get obliterable,
All of the wishes and prayers fade; it’s unfixable…
In a crowd, he’s always the one that’s unnoticeable,
Thought-Storms, wild ideas become pestilential…
His handwriting is now virtually untranslatable,
Voices, alarms, so many to Inchie are unhearable,
Problems are increasing… not many are solvable,
Friendships, chinwags are all uncultivatable,
As seeing lip-reading with Cataracts is not doable…
Vascular Dementia Doreen has ruined the potential…
To do anything that is enjoyable or cherishable!

Inchie should get a medal for being so confusable…
He’s given up socialising, he’s no longer compatible,
Inchies depressions are no longer confineable,
Hell, they are not even logical or describable…
He tries to talk seriously, his views are uninfluential,
Inchies common sense is turning surreal,
His neurotransmitters are no longer connectable…
To the brain; so too falls and shakes he is liable…
But hopes of a cure are almost non-existent… Sniffle!

Yet he can have hopes, some of them substantial,
But why he bothers is just unanswerable…
Will he feel better when his eyes are done; its arguable,
Cataracts, Glaucoma Saccades, are treatable…
But will Inchy love long enough? Life’s a raffle…
For 25 years now, he’s been totally tea-total,
He never thought he’d persist and be capable,
See? Summat he got right is detectable!

On past City & QMC visits, he became reflectable,
Hoping those he awaits will not be fatal…
He’s waiting on dates of five procedures at the hospital,
Will soon come about and be arrangeable,
But he’s not too hopeful and not getting flappable…
He’s more worried about the logistics; will he be able…
Which can do him no good and be detrimental…
That’s another thing he needs, treatment dental!

He fears arranging things transportational…
A carer to stay with him, which’d be pleasurable,
After the 3 procedures, stay for 24hrs – is this possible?
What’s the procedure: is it cost credible?
I don’t know why I wrote this; it’s grammatically unpublishable?

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

Tues 5th April 2022

03:30hrs: The now, usual for the last four mornings anyway, jumping awake to the tormenting sounds of the Thought-Storms, driving me into instant confusion, began.

I reckon the storm lasted for about three minutes, then faded fast. No idea why, but happy about it!

Even getting out of the c1966 recliner and up to catch my balance was easy-peasy! Three-limps with Metal Mickey to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) and took another reluctant wee-wee. Without any PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling. Things looked hopeful to me for a better day in the offing? Until…

I soon learnt that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had replaced the Thought-Storm as the primary ailment. Although, right Cartilage Cathy was assisting in making hobbling a smidge difficult. But I’m not complaining; this knee pain and wobbling leg were a pleasure to put up with compared to yesterday morning’s Dracula Depression. Yes, I was feeling much better already!

Emptied, cleaned and disinfected the bucket and had a wash of sorts. Then, returned the NWWB to its handily placed position. Just in case things change with the bladder, off to the kitchen.

The view from the kitchenette window was very similar to yesterday’s beautiful picture.

I took this photograph. Even if it looked like yesterday.

As I opened the window, the wind caught me out. I moved a little with the camera and knocked over the knife block! I managed to catch it without any harm or injury, and only one knife fell out of the block! I was trying not to get into a Smug-Mode, as history has taught me that doing that can prove almost fatal! At minimal a foretaster of something else going wrong, at least! I made up two waste bags and placed them near the door. Got the kettle on and made a brew of JS Extra Strong tea. And off to get the computer going.

I kept getting messages telling me to put a disc in the F: drive, which had been there all along. The SD card reader refused to react again. So I left the card in to see if it would later on. I occasionally responded by giving the SD card a soft jingle – but it made no difference. Hey-ho!

Carer Richard arrived. He soon got me sorted with the medications, alarm-alert battery checks and looked at the supply of drugs in the drawer. He had to shoot off. He gave me a bit of a natter, though, bless him. He didn’t look too good this morning. Hope he’s going to be alright.

After updating yesterday’s blog for a while, I made another brew. Glengettie this time, and I tried the new ‘Just Milk’ in it again.

I’ve no idea if anything in it is different to normal semi-skimmed milk; the writing is too tiny for Cataract Kathleen to make it out. But I have to say that it lets the flavour of the tea come through without masking it, better than any other milk I’ve tried. As I got back to updating the blog…

The need for the Porcelain Throne interrupted me. As I casually got up and grabbed Metal-Mickey, the urgency of the need snowballed, and it ended up with just making it in time, after a panic, rush and quick hobble! Hahaha!

Not exactly as smooth as silk, and it was accompanied by different pains areas this time, despite the evacuation being semi-soft. All over in about a minute! No bleeding, stinging or hurting from Harold’s Haemorrhoids either. As I was cleaning up after the event. I realised that it may well be my having a second vegetable meal in three days that made things uncomfortable and nearly caught me out? Back to chips and a pastie with tomatoes tonight!

Made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Oh, I am spoilt for choices with great tasting teas! My best four are, from the top: Glengettie, Thompsons Punjana, Co-op 99 and JS Extra Strong Brown Label. But there is little between them. All great!

Made a restart on the updating of yesterday’s blog. At long last, I got it done and posted it off to WordPress.

Sphygmomanometerisationing began. The Boots machine returned slightly better figures this morning. The SYS has gone down from 169, 161, 159 and now to 157. My blood pressure is going in the right direction! And the body temperature is so very nearly on target again, at 34.8°c. Good!

Back to the wet room, no waiting this time, first songs and I was off. Hehe! Bubbly is one word to describe the evacuation this time. Almost frothy? Not a lot, no bleeding and no pain!

I replied to some Emails… well, the one. Hehe! I did some Facebooking catch-up. Starting the WP Reader viewing and…

Mr Nice, from the flat above, launched into some clanging about.

I spent a long time trying to get this post started. The concentration did a runner, and so many mistakes were made and had to be found and corrected. I imagine I’ve missed some; there were that many! The top Ode cost me a few hours of disheartening faffling about.

It was well into the afternoon when I got up to here with the scripturising. I like that word; I expected Grammarly to tell me it was spelt wrong. Oh, sod it, it just told me belatedly!

Better get some nosh sorted out then.

Took a photo of the Chestnut Way end car park. Just to see how red-van-man had parked.

Even with the Cataracts, it caught my eye that the popularity of car colours on the front spaces. Grey, black and white seems to be in fashion here at the towers. Disabled ones, perhaps?

I got the nosh all sorted out. Fishcakes with mushy peas in them, imitation fish sticks, tomatoes and some reasonably decent chips. Dessert and milk roll bread. Rating: 7/10.

Fell asleep watching something or other on the TV. Two hours or so later, ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chirped from the door chime, and the evening carer arrived. An obviously experienced young chap, not seen him before. Good at the job, sorted the medications and came up with a solution to dropping the tablets and regurgitating without noticing. The Carer suggested taking them one at a time. Good idea, I’ll try that! Thanked him, and off he went.

As I checked around to make sure no taps or lights had been left on and all was safe – I saw the view from the kitchenette window. It was beautiful; I got the Canon and took this photo.

Then, a programme, well, two consecutive ones, were shown on the same channel. I fancied watching them both and got myself settled with a bottle of spring water, the wee-wee bucket nearby, feet up on the chair in readiness to enjoy them. I fell asleep at the first set of adverts and woke up two hours later to catch the finishing credits for the second documentary! Hey-Ho!

Inchcock Today: Belated Photographicalisations – Diary

Belated Photographicalisations INCHCOCKs DIARY

I’m afraid with the mess I made of the files when trying to master the card-reader problem, and then the CorelDraw graphics disaster… that’s a mild word for it! It was no less than a miracle how I managed to get the photos uploaded. Then the reader kept conking out midway through – and the unloaded SD pictures had to be searched for again… Then the card-reader conked out again all together! It’s taken me a lifetime to get them sorted… well, there are more unsorted now! Glagnangles!

Well, he’s been tap-tapping and knocking to keep me company once again, on and off all day! But he can’t help being well-off and all the management loving him so. In fact, as ignorant, unneighbourly, superior-natured, snotty, unresponsive, unfriendly, standoffish, snot-bags go, he’s one of the bestest.

I did have the pleasure of Carer Cheeky Charley calling this morning. So good to have a little natter and laugh. Her having to leave put me back in the dumps, but thankful for her cheeriness! ♥

I’ve not much idea which of the two days I’d no working SD reader photos were taken, but I’ve hazarded my best guess. Tried to get them in the order they were taken… I hope. Here we go…

A morning shot here, Mayhaps Wednesday. (Or, Thursday, or else Friday?) Or not. Got the splinter out! I seem to recollect my knocking over the towel holder and breaking it when I took this shot.

I took the Boot’s BP sphygmomanometerisationing, in the kitchenette, near the microwave machine. Why? Tsk! I haven’t got the foggiest; I can’t even remember taking it.

Still, the 149 Sys reading came out okayish. DIA 70, Pulse at 91. The body temperature was not such a good result, though! Even lower this time, the minimum being 35°c, it was a little low at 33.7°c.

I’m assuming the picture of the Dettol disinfectant would have had something to do with Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding and my need to wash the trews using it?

Aha! I can remember taking this one! I used Carer Richard’s so kindly donated camera. The batteries ran out, but I had some in stock and changed them, got a decent shot? Something bugs me that I may have already put this on a blog? Ah, Thursday this one, when I got the Ocado order delivered, by a helpful bloke who took the bags through to the kitchen, bless his cotton socks. Some great nosh arrived! Marmite cobs, fresh pod peas, potato cheese and leek pies. (Had an Accifauxpa with them, I’ll try to remember to tell you of the farce later). 

A tasty treat of the day, Polish sourdough bread, cheese twists, as well. Oh, and the best cakes I’ve ever had in my life, and I’m gerrin’ on a bit now yer know, Hehehe! Four cream and strawberry jam tartlets… Eat them all? Me? Ahem! Erm… Yes! Got some strawberries as well; going out for treats, they will be. Got the stuff stored away.

I opened a Chukka cheese, leek and onion pie… no, that’s not right, erm… I was close. It was a potato, cheese and leek pie, and as I was putting it back in the fridge having removed the cardboard… Ailment number eight; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, ensured that I dropped the pie on the floor. Swiftly followed up by Peripheral Neuropathy Pete giving me one of his rare, but troubling, drop-something and flail-about, involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dances  (As cyber-mate Tim, in New Mexico has Christened them, Hahaha  To round off the farce, I trod on the Chukka pie!

Hence, I had to clean and mop the kitchenette floor yet again. For the third time this week. Each time it was caused primarily by one or more of the ailments. With all the things going wrong lately, I surprised myself with how I got on with the job; I even found myself singing out loud?

Erm,  Thurs… no, Fridays Health Checks  I think  Either one, the SYS and DIA were back up high again; However, the Pulse was down a bit. You can’t win ’em all.

Whoops The body temperature was about the same, too low  I’d try the in-the-ear one, but I can’t work out how to get the actual temperature up on display. Fair enough, there are buttons on it to confuse me… Haha!

I think I’ve made a cock-up on this one; I can’t remember eating this at all. So, possibly, Dementia Doreen is having fun with me, or I saved an old photo, not a new one… that is, of course, unless the computer card reader ate the new one?

Ah, this was Thursdays anyway, I reckon, Cause there is sourdough bread in the picture. See that, I worked that out despite Dementia Doreen. Har-har  Yes, I had two Heinz veggie burgers  Texan style. They were delicious  Yellow tomatoes, podded peas and BBQ sauce on the burger sandwiches.

Then… I demolished all four of Marks & Spencer cream and strawberry jam tarts!! Next time, I’ll be hard pushed not to order any more from Ocado – they were out of this world!

Fridays morning  It took me hours to get the blog done with the graphic of Lisa and Bill in their laboratory.

Getting photos onto the system was still a no-no, no-go!

Oh, bloody woe is me! That damned Shuddering Shoulder Shirley is having a ball with me this week. Her timing is just immaculate. I was just stirring the freshly made mug of Glengettie when she gave just one almighty jerk that resulted in tea and broken pottery on the kitchen floor once more that needed to be cleared, cleaned and mopped again!

I can’t take much hassle  Hehehe. There was no singing to myself this time around!

I decided to make a can of ready-made chilli, a hot one it says on the label. Do a few chips in the oven and dunk the Sourdough bread. I wonder if I can get the photograph of the meal onto the computer. What are the odds, Humph!

Saturday morning: Well, Gotten Himmel  The SD card worked first time this morning. This has not been the case for over fifteen days!

The can of strong Chilli-con-carne and garden peas was slowly warmed through. Then I added some grated leeks and some more red beans, Liquid smoke, then the BBQ sauce, all the time stirring it, on a low light, turning up the heat for the last few minutes. The BBQ chips done in the oven were added when I served it up. Some Polish sourdough bread and a Lemon & Lime yoghourt pot rounded off the meal.

Hehe! Delicious! Flavour rating 8.8/10… nothing like being precise.

The evening carer arrived when I was eating it; she was a front door non-chime ringer – didn’t half make me jump when she got in the room  (Haha!)

Sleep was resistant tonight. I tried putting on the TV, but even that didn’t help me nod off. Then the dreaded Thought-Storms arrived… and stayed toying in my brain for hours on end!

I did manage to nod off eventually and stayed that way for four hours, before the traditional springing awake with a jump… needing a wee-wee  So, up I got.

Ode To These Two Days


Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas & affrays!
Bleeding, fears, worries, errors, mistakes always!
Thought Storms, more so than for days…
The mind was unable to sort out or appraise…

The odd bit of good fortune… that did amaze…
Dropsies, I could have had the kitchen ablaze,
Memory blanks, medications and delays…
Forgetting what I’m typing; off the thought strays!

Started recalling the past, all my yesterdays,
Leaving my emotions depressed, in a haze!
But, at least no walking into doorways!
Mind you, on a superb tasting meal, I did graze!

Morning all!

Sunset Thoughts In Odes

“Oy, Inchie…

“Wot?”

“Wot yer doin’ then?”

“Watchin’ the sunset!”

“Wot for? It ‘appens every night, yer burke?”

“I know it does, yer grumpy git! I photograph it most nights yer know…”

“I know that I am a part of yer ain’t I?”

“Then why ask me wot I’m doing then? You drive me to my homebrew, Ooh!”

“I dunno, just to piss you off, I suppose!”

“Sarcasm from you always flows…”

“Do you know, we’re talking in prose?”

“Go on then, let’s keep it up, see how it goes?

“The Carer will be here soon, let’s see who loses the odeing, you know?

“Just look at how the dying sun still glows..”

“I bet you’d get a better pattern as a Filipino?”

“I hear out there, they drink cappuccino?”.

“Do you like Pizzas from Domino?”

“What’s that got to do with the Ode, dumbo?

“Sod-all, you’ll soon be back on the Vino…”

“You’re in a barmy-mood? Why don’t you just go?

Cause I also want to see the sun’s dying glow!”

“I’m not having that; you a naturist? No, no, no!”

“That’s not nice, do yer want your blood to flow?”

“Ah, but you can’t hurt me physically, though!”

“Not my style, but I can send you loco!”

“Ha! I’m already bonkers; you’re too slow!”

“You are a saddo, fatso, and have no gusto!”

“Go on knob-end, tell me summat I didn’t know!”

“Well, the sun’s beginning to go…!

“I wish you would go; you damage my ego!”

“Why do you have to live on the 12th-floor in Council flats? Can’t you afford a bungalow?”

“Leave me alone. You’re always digging at me; you’re making my anger grow…”

“In the flat, it must be like the Alamo! Waiting for death, in agony, another coffin-seeking Bozo!”

“The Alamo? Well, my life seems to be connected like an imbroglio…”

That much, I understand and know…

“I don’t get out much, so?”

“With your luck, if you did, someone would stab you with a stiletto…”

“Or you stay-in, and old father time will soon say, time for you to go, cheerio!…”

“You being a defeatist would mumble, Righteo!”

“You may even ask him, is there time for one last bacon sarnie, with sourdough?”

“Have yer done? Taking the piss and having your fun?

“Aha! Pillock that didn’t rhyme. I’ve won again, I’ve won!

“Rollocks!”

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh-In Ode, Series

Odiously ‘Orrible Odes on Ageing

Inchcocks advice and tips, for whippersnappers who think they will live forever, in diabolical ode. You Won’t!

Be Prepared

It’s essential that you prepare, cause nobody else will care…
Unless you’re loaded, with plenty of cash to betroth, spare,
Have you spent it? Holidays, big car and you’ve safaried?
I’m just explaining how it will be for you, not to be morbid…
I don’t mind if my tips are not absorbed…
All a part of living is death, don’t be worried!

Oh, and there’s nothing to say that you should be hurried!
You may find that you could later, yourself bedrid…
You’ll need help if yer on yer own, and feeling dogeared,
Paying for Carers must not be feared…
New ailments will by now have reared…
You can expect this; it’s normal, not weird!

The family may call to help, your bank balance cleared,
Your reputation may diminish, become smeared…
Help might be harder to get; tell them you are disorientated…
You’ll make them a beneficiary, you’ll be genuflected!
They may make you a brew, say you’ve been neglected…
Then you may die of poisoning… they’ll be suspected!

If you own your own house, but not if it’s rented…
You’ll be treated well, as is to be expected…
The not seen for years crowd will be attracted…
Looking for the Will, but it won’t be protracted,
It’s essential to avoid them becoming malcontented…
Pick your times when to tell them you’re demented!

Them topping you, at all costs must be prevented,
Promise each one a little extra, don’t get resented!
Unless, of course, death will make you contented…
Tell them you’ve sorted their money, all consented…
But, remember who you’ve promised, you may get assaulted!
Or, at minimum, your face resculptured!

When the Doctor tells you, the end is anticipated…
You may wish they’d told you later, waited…
Unknown relatives calling will be prompted,
Is his name Keith, Tim, Richard or Ted?
Not that it matters, cause you could soon be dead!

Ailments Roster

Stroke, Cataracts Diabetes: To Be Added

In my young days, ailments that were lurking,
Were Polio, Double pneumonia, & getting a caning…
Not that I’m sorry, but of all, I was ailing…
We didn’t have to put up with too much burgling,
Sore throat, toothache? Meant saltwater gurgling,
We knew nowt about Cocaine or methamphetamine!

In my teens, there were very few ailments troubling,
Of course, romance took precedence; ah, romancing! ♥
I got into it, even went to the nightclub, dancing…
But I broke my leg one night, and I was only waltzing!
For Suzie, should I try dancing again? I was dithering…
But she left me when the Twist arrived, very belittling!

I met a gal from near Berlin… who really got me going!
Grizelda her name, big lass, solid-built and liked her gin…
But she had to go home; I was lonely again…
Oh, sorry, from the subject I am straying…
Not precisely an ailment, but I got shot while working…
Made redundant, unfair, and I wasn’t shirking!

Then the ailments started coming, flooding…
Duodenal ulcer, Arthur Itis, needed a new heart put in!
Reflux Roger, eyesight failing, and I lost my hearing…
Sadly, that was the end of motorcycling,
So I bought Robin Reliant, though it was exciting…
Sat in a car park, a lorry hit me, anger was igniting!

Then peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed…
Got shot again, then made redundanted,
Life started backpedalling…
But you can learn from my failing!
It’s no point in wailing…
Life is never plain sailing!

When I had the stroke, then I started wailing,
Hospital four weeks, then a home for the ailing…
For five weeks, it was appalling!
Things got worse, they lost my washing…
Gave me no food one day; everyone else was noshing?
I don’t think I’ll ever again go abseiling?

Weeks later, the eyesight faded more, blurring?
Went to see the optician… revealing…
Cataracts and glaucoma in both eyes, they so sting…
Saccades in the right eye never heard of this thing…
The NHS said there is an average of 48-weeks waiting!
Nothing much-going right, or compensating…

Weeks later, I went virtually deaf, hardly any hearing…
In either lughole… both channels were wax-filling…
Since which, four times a day, the olive oil dropping in…
The left worse than the right, ‘Grumbling!’
Not hearing my doorbell tune ringing…
Not the telephone’s ding-a-ling; this’s frustrating!

I took a tumble in the shower, ablutionalisationing,
You’ll get to accept these; they are a part of being…
Doddery, not having yet mastered the walking stick.
Fears and worries will need camouflaging…
Oh, and shopkeepers will try over-charging…
Or more likely short-changing…

With the arrival of Vascular Dementia Doreen coming…
Means problems with organising and remembering…
Dizzy Dennis, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley bothering…
Thought Storms, your brain will need defragging,
The kettles broke, and the toilet is not flushing…
Hopes for the future, you’ll find languishing!

Sock-Glide-Glenda

Sock-Glide-Glenda, to be used after ablutioning!
Very good for bodily parts mutilating…
It can be avoided by not going out, staying in…
But you’ll have to go out to get your medications and gin?
I can assure you, in Sock-Glide-Glenda executing…
You’ll be injured, cut, bruised or exsanguinating!

I solved this painful problem by hibernating…
In the flat, the brain stopped activating…
No perambulating or hobbling… boring!
Although Carers called, to do the medicating…
Some of them like a little chinwagging,
I look forward to the talking Carer’ visiting!

So, Whippersnappers, this you must be expecting…
Keep your wits about you, when Glendaring,
Germolene, plasters and Phorpain gel nearby waiting,
A blood blister, cut, or bruise can really sting!
Worse if you have a boil or carbuncle erupting!
These odes are just tips; I’m not instructing…
Just future problems for you, detecting…
Please don’t see this ode as floccinaucinihilipilificating!

Overview on Inchcocks’ Life

I’ve led a super-fun life; I’m not complaining,
Lived life to the full, wind, sun or raining…
I’ve had so much sex; it’s been disorientating!
Earnt a fortune – I don’t mean to be drum-beating,
I’ve had battles but can’t remember taking a beating…
I’d got through life with faith, honesty and collaborating,
Oh, there’s just one other thing…
This last verse was all me fibbing!

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh Ode Series

Inchcocks Diaries

Diaries In Short Form

Sorry, I’ve got some photos from Friday. But little memory.
Some scribbled notes helped, what I could read if it anyway along with the photos. I had things going bonkers-wrong: The computer, the camera, I could load no images on Friday at all. Got a few on Saturday morning, then the picture app threw a funny again. I was struggling to get the Local News Snippets done… more and more frustrating. But Saturday, I got the blog finished and posted. Then, got stopped again, by the most heartwarming happenings, Sister Jane rang, and the delicious angel Jillie💜 called – she came… well, I’ll not spoil it for now…

Friday 25th February

Up at 05:50hrs. Four & a half hours kip. Prepped laundry. Then hoovered the room and kitchen. (Yes!) If you had a painfully dislodged Cathy Cartilage kneecap and hoovering with the bit of vacuum while using a walking stick and fighting off Dizzy Dennis a few times, you’d realise wot-an-‘ero, I was! Hehehe! Ablutions done.

Carer Richard arrived. I was fine up until then, really, but the memory of what took place is vague and no notes written? Not like me, that!

Onto the computer, Snippets blog started. Got the graphics from the YourArea site on the web. No photos being allowed by the darned computer again! Interesting word of the pad ‘Froir Back?’

CorelDraw to touch up and add to the graphics, and got carried away, making personal words to use file, for the odeing (Didn’t get any done until Saturday).

Now we are in Vague-land! I got something to eat and took a photo hoping that it would go on the computer in the morning. Until carer Helen arrived, I think.

Had a nasty attack from Dizzy Dennis after washing and getting the nocturnal clobber on. Can’t recall going over, and no bruises or aches anywhere in the morning, so I couldn’t have. Cartilage Cathy had been bothersome all day; I put that on the pad.

I retook some photos of the sunset.

Saturday 26th February 2022

I had no record of what time, but I got up in darkness and found myself topping up the Treats shelf? I must have done other things?

 I recall knowing that an Amazon delivery is due today and feeling a little chuffed for doing that. I think it was morning Carer Helen who called. But it’s just a guess. After she had gone, I decided that I’d hang on until Monday and call the Doctor for an appointment; things are not right at all with me. It could just be Dementia-Doreen, of course?

Got the ablutions done and back onto the blogging. It was hard going. There is no bother from DD (Dizzy Dennis), just CC (Cartilage Cathy)

Spent many frustrating hours getting the blog formulated. I worked on presenting it at long last. Posted it off, to my amazement, the card reader read the SD card, so I got them on the file post haste.

These are from Sat’s sunset shots.

Then finished off and posted the blog. Hurrah!

Sister Jane rang, we had a natter. Humph! (Although this might have been on Saturday).

Heinz bean burgers for lunch, I like ’em! (Saturday)

Jillie rang me. And decided to pop up to see me – My world lit up! I got the template for this blog done, and Jillie arrived. A hugging session later, we were chatting away and laughing – What excellent medicine that was! Jillie had brought me some sausages that she’d cooked for me – Wonderful! She got me some at Christmas, and boy, they were good then; going to have these tonight. Mmm! Thanks, Jillie, my sweetheart, 💋

When Jillie had to go, wine and treats had to be forced upon her, and I found myself singing!!!

Oh, I better check on the Amazon tracker; all good, it says it’ll be here by 21:00hrs.

Continued to work on this blog, awaiting the arrival of the evening Carer, whoever that may be. Carer Elena, I think. Wrong again, it was Carer Valerie. On her phone again. No chatting time. Gave me the medications and carried on with her phone call. I tried to get her to turn around to take this photo, but as she was on her mobile chinwagging, she wouldn’t. Hehe!

The whatever they are called on the ends of my fingers on the right hand are getting painful; When they touch anything, including keypad buttons. They look like bits of food. I spent a while trying to scrub them off. Hahaha! I think it is specs of blood from under the skin. Then going back to normal, the returning, you get what I mean. Konrad Confusion, again! Something development in the Peripheral Neuropathy, I assume.

I got the belated Health Checks done. Starting with the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, made and manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China. (Okay, as it appeared to me, a smidge high SYS) But not worrying, it’s been a lot higher. No doubt it will droppeth like a stone. Or maybe not.  Hehe!

The Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, scarily gave a reading lower than ever at 32.9°c! Nervous of this, I tried the in-the-ear thermometer. I could not get a reading, just a display of Lo?

I got today’s sunset shots onto the computer, and they are here below. (I suppose you noticed them? Hahaha! The top two were taken first. Then the kettle boiled, and I poured the tea…

Then took the second two. But I don’t know what it is! I’ve said it before, but it’s incredible how quickly the colouring changes this time of year. Naturally, there is a logical reason for this…

Doing well now… I got the photos of Valerie, the nosh and the end car park loaded. 😁

Just look at those sausages that Jillie did for me! All I had to do was reheat them Bootiful! I must ask where she got them from; these had bits of red peer in them, absolutely perfectly part-burnt, just how I love them. I could get addicted to these, which is fair cause I’m already addicted to Jillie! Thanks again, you Angel! I ate it all up, not a scrap left on the plate. The only thing not so good was the Sugar snap peas from Iceland. They usually get Nigerian; these were Egyptian and nowhere near so sweet. But, as I’d long ago had a cuddle and hug with Jillie, it didn’t matter so much. The tomatoes were sumptuous again. I ate each sausage with a slice of the thin, soft Milk Roll bread, dipped into the BBQ sauce. Wunderbar! Taste: 8.9/10

Washed the pots and meandered into the balcony to take a photo of the end car park car in the dank darkness. Eerie looking, with so little vehicular activity and no signs of life!

Then I remembered the coming any time now Amazon order. Huh! Went on the tracker site to investigate…

Carer Helen, I think arrived. Bit of brain-block as to what happened, if anything worth mentioning. I’m doing this the following morning, and the recollections of the end of Saturday are very blurry. Not that I felt terrible physically. The memories of Jillie’s visit were still zooming around in my head.

I could still taste the beautiful sausages she did for me. Mmm! I know I took a Hemp capsule cause when I got up for a wee-wee, the bottle fell from between my legs. Hahaha! Which in itself perked me up.

Sweet Morpheus and an excited brain meant it took ages to drop off. The usual first-response, of putting the TV on, searching for something interested showing, and trying to watch it – that sends me typically off at the first set of advertisements. But not tonight… Well, I watched a murder documentary, nearly all the way through, a 2-hour program as well! I needed the sleep that arrived, but of course, it meant missing the last 10 minutes or so of the programme. Tsk! But turning off the TV, and I reckon I was off into dreamland within minutes! I’m sure I had many dreams… likely with Jillie in there somewhere, but I had no recollection of any actual details, just happy thoughts.

Ode to Thought-Storm Sufferers

Together we can get through this mental breach…
Avoiding counsellors who want to preach…
I know the confusion when storms unleash…
At times, Dementia Doreen can actually be a peach!
Sometimes the Thoughts arriving, I cannot reach…
Or forget them, and start designing my wreath,
Or, I’m off somewhere fishing, the shingles of Meath?
Not for me a sunny suntanning beach…
Picking pickled walnuts from my teeth…
Making passionate love to a hairy cailleach!
But Thought Storms follow – I’m sick to my back teeth!
Today it was Tony Blair, Hitler and Edward Heath!

TTFN, each

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odes

General Ode To The Day

Today, when good luck and success ran away,
Making me want to cry, die, and even pray!
It’s this horrendously-heinous Wednesday!
Very little humour, fun or flimflammery!

Problems of intense magnitude and stupidity…
Errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, and I got all forgettery…
Accifauxpas, mind-blanks, bonkerness and pettifoggery,
So much so my mind requires mental surgery!

I ended up nervous yet showing frustrated badassery!
The brain crumbled, the body tumbled…
Nothing this day was of the slightest bit ordinary,
Then the innards painfully rumbled…
My last bit of willpower crumbled!

Self-hatred, for myself, and a vile loathing…
So many failures, one in my underclothing!
But that, I’m too ashamed to be describing,
It had some occasions that were nice, touching…
But they were scarce, and so many were scathing!

Computers I should know would mock and beat me…
I thought I’d get the problem sorted, very foolishly!
I’d never have mended it if I tried until next January…
As I should have known, I just made things worse,
I sobbed, got depressed, and voiced many a curse…

I thought at one time, I was growing insanity…
Why am plagued by this unknown, unlucky entity?
It started at birth… and has grown nasty, by plenty!
In my previous life, was I a murderer, a scoundrel? Maybe…

When I’m burnt to ashes by the Brothers Baguley…
I want my mourners to know, there’s no need for sorrow,
At the moment, I’d be content, no, glad to go…
Life’s always been a battle against the flow…
I may miss cheesy potatoes, and bread, buttered sourdough,
Carers like Julia and Jilly both leave me with an afterglow. ♥

Not enough to make me stay here, though!
Life to me has been like at the Alamo…
Surrounded, outnumbered and nowhere to go,
Failings, errors, fretting, my life’s been so!
I’d hoped things would improve, but no, oh, no!

Reincarnation? That would be hard to swallow,
I might return as a soaring eagle or a brave buffalo?
Or most likely a stickleback, mousse or minnow!
See, that’s depression; I’m feeling so low…

And what’s to come later… death, maybe, yes or no,
I’ll continue as a failed saddo and fatso…
I’ll snuff-it, not bothered how maybe tomorrow?
I’ll die never having had a cup of cappuccino!
It’s been forty-odd years since I’ve been on a beano!
My friends and family will gather to say cheerio…
But there’s only three of them, so I don’t know…

They’ll search for my money, and they’ll be very thorough,
Cupboards, drawers, clothes and behind the big photo…
I don’t blame ’em; that’s how it will go…
I can’t take it with me… I don’t mean to crow…

That’s summat else, why did I live life in a constant imbroglio?
Calling things electrical, mechanical, complicated, a gizmo?
Cause the Vascular Dementia Doreen said so?
I had problems; I became an alcoholic, not wino…
Which at the time for me, was no problemo!

I danced like a three-legged drunken rhino…
The gal who said that was named Clio,
Ailments, being shot, being made redundant did follow…
Didn’t matter too much; life was already shallow…
But I’ve always been that way, uneducated and callow…

With quips and replies, I’ve been sharp, never slow,
I once nearly bought a second-hand Volvo…
What that’s got to go with this Ode, I don’t know?
I’m trying to live an inoffensive life, but whereunto?
I’ve lost the plot now. Shall I make a cuppa? Righteo!

It took me that long to formulate this Ode, so many errors, mistakes, and Mind-Blanks! The time is running out for me to get the Diary bit done. So, it will be in condensed form, sorry!

———————————————————————-

WEDNESDAY 23rd FEBRUARY 2022

A great sleep once I managed to get off. Which was at about 02:00hrs. But, I was well pleased with only jump-waking up three times. On the third, it was already 06:10hrs! So, over four hours, not bad, that. I think the Hemp seems to be working.

As I fought my way out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner, two things dawned on me. This morning is the Ocado food delivery twixt 6-7:00hrs, and Cartilage Cathy was still as bad as yesterday. So, I took a Codeine and checked that I had not missed any calls on the intercom – I feared I would not have heard it if he had come early while I was sleeping. No missed calls on the list, so that cheered me a little.

I got the medical checks sorted straight away. The body temperature was still too low. But what should I do? It might be the machine? They tell me to ring 999 if it is below 45°c? But it’s not far off this time.

There was no hassle about the Blood Pressure, though, all looking pretty good, with SIA 152. DIA 74. and Pulse at 80. This seemed fair to me. Glad the BP machine was working after my dropping it yesterday.

Into the kitchenette to put the kettle on, and I trod on something small and challenging – I guessed right, it was an escaped garden pea gone rock hard. Hehe! Made me jump a bit! I also found a tablet?

The intercom rang at 06:30hrs, and the Ocado driver brought the bags up to the flat. Nice chap.

Got the bags into the kitchen; there seemed a lot of them today?

Sorted out what’s what and where they are to go. The frozen Heinz Beanz Burgers went in the freezer, along with the battered cod bites and fishcakes with mushy peas in them. Natoora black tomatoes, yellow tomatoes, steak pie into the fridge, with some difficulty… Cartilage Cathy was in a right rotten mood with me when I bent to get the bottom tray filled. Cor, blimey, was she! But the bending to pick up the peas and pill might have contributed to Cartilage Cathy’s annoyance. Hehe!

Then I moved on to the third or fourth bag. The black box held 12 mini-pots of M&S fruit and jelly. Which I read when ordering to be strawberry flavoured. They had actual fruit in the jelly, but one of them was the forbidden for me pineapples. On a closer look, they also had seeds in them, which will most likely cause me a toothache. They’ll have to go! I know how to live! I made a bottle of spring water up with some of the lemon and lime cordial for later.

I got some fresh garden peas and lemon and lime yoghourts too. Two favourites there!

Just after getting them stored away and returning to the computer, Everything went wrong computer-wise. The icons had shrunk, the screen had gone darker, and Norton came up[ with things that needed attention. Crapwranglers! It was all too much for me, and I ended up changing things, uncertain if I was doing right or wrong. After changing things, it was far worse. I could have cried!

I stopped making changes too late and could not work out how to correct things. I went for a break and made a brew of Glengettie, taking this photograph of the morning view, in which I caught some crows on their way to a tree-top murder in the park. Then around 08:15hrs, the landline rang out. It was the gorgeous Nurse Hristina to tell me she was coming in the morning to do a Warfarin blood test, and I’ll be back on the Enoxaparin injections.

Then it rang again, it was Nicola from Meridian, Carer Richard who was sue to do me and stay with a poorly patient. They have arranged for Carer Julie to come and do me, she’ll be here as soon as possible. Bless her! Thanked her for letting me know.

Doing the updating of the blog for yesterday and got deeper into a mess of confusion with the computer for an hour or so, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang out.

Julie got the medications sorted; she had been called in to cover. She was as sweet as ever and helped me with the computer. ♥

After Carer Julie had left, Norton flashed up again. I’d no idea what was what. Humph! Now I cannot access my dropbox or save anything to it!!! The pointer keeps changing size? Oh dearie me! I may have changed something when I had a Norton defrag? I just can’t remember what I changed…

MedPhorpainI carried on with this blog. The top Ode taking me yonks to get done. I gave Cartilage Cathy another good rubbing with the Phorpain again. This is the second day of Cathy’s hassle. Never had two days’ worth before.

I stopped computing on the blog to take a look at the food situation and catch up on what, if anything else, is due. I think I’ve ordered a Sainsbury’s order for next Sunday, but Dementia Doreen is determined; I’ll not remember. I’ll check the calendar first. I must get the ablutions done soon.

Yes, JS on Sunday. I’ll do an Iceland one for midweek. All done!

Now back on with this blog.

17:15hrs Ode

The day stopped, as frustration grew, abysmally,
But memories remained of this morning’s jollity.
Although it was just for microscopical scintillae…
I felt my depression wanting to go away…
But would it? Well, maybe one day it may…

Yet I no longer felt the self-hatred, not acidulously,
The evening Carer should soon be coming to see me…
Will they be contented, happy? Or rather grumpy?
Or a chinwagger? Who entertains me wryly?
I hope no one considers a natter avoidably!

Hopefully, one that looks after me, assiduously,
Who doesn’t mind a laugh and is not over assertively…
Carers who really care, I greet applaudingly…
And consider them to be admiringly adorably,
Like Jillie and Julie, compassionate, addictively!

I’ve got the oven on to heat up, to do the chips later, fresh garden peas and a pastie methinks tonight. But I must try not to make too much this time. Ah, it’s 18:00 now; the approx. ETA is twixt 18:00>19:00hrs for the evening carers.

I made a brew and took some photographs of the evening sun setting. Computed a little, took the mug to be washed, and took three more pictures. The ones on the left earlier ones, the right the later ones, but only by about 15 minutes. Mother Nature – absolutely Bootiful!

1848hrs: Carer Kiya came into the room. Having failed again to use the door chime… three times now. I had to ask her again, explaining that I could have been using the grey bucket… It made little difference. But she’s a confident little thing and witty with it. She let us chat for a couple of minutes, chose her nibbles and drink, took the waste bags with her without me asking, of off she went, happily.

I managed to encourage the picture ap to recognise the photo of the end car park at last. I took it this morning around 08:00hrs or thereabouts. Only just got it on the computer. I’m having all sorts of problems with it now –  a case of last legs, methinks? (Me too, Haha!)

No red van, man. Well, he might be in court; you never know. Har-har! Plenty of vehicles compared to normal in there this morning.

Got the chips in the oven, then changed my mind and pulled them straight out again. (I know, I know!) I realised just how late it was now, and I still had to finish this blog. Otherwise, they’d have been cooked to a frazzled by the time I got the blog completed, posted, the Facebooking catch-up done, and photo albums updated. Then I’ve the WordPress Reader reading and commentating to do. The read and answer to the blog comments… Good heavens, I’d better get on with it!…

TTFN.

Inchcock Today: Tue/Wed 16/17th February

Wednesday 16th February 2022

The body woke, and immediately appreciated that I can only remember waking up four times! Much better sleep!

The brain failed to fully engage! For I somehow found myself in the spare room sorting out the bag for Independent Living Coordinator, Warden, and desk-top dancer, Obersturmbannfuhreress Deana. Wondering why I’d done this before having a wee-wee or even putting the kettle on to make a brew of tea confused me. (Doreen?)

I had a wee-wee and checked on Little Inches fungal lesion (itching a bit). But it was not bleeding, I just cleaned things up and applied some teeth-grindingly painful ointment to the affected area. Argh!

Thought I was going to make a brew of tea… found myself topping up the Treats-Shelf instead? It was obvious to me, plainly, that Vascular Dementia Doreen was going to be in charge of things today! I could do nothing about choices until things calmed down from her. Which, thank heavens, they did shortly after I’d made a brew of JS Red Label Extra Strong tea. But Doreen’s attentions were mentally crippling at times today. So annoyingly so, as well.

Went to make a brew and took this photo of the dark, dank morning view.

The SYS was not too bad. Pulse at 90, up a bit.

Humph! I did drop the darned BP machine as I was putting it away! Tried it out again, nervous of it being buggered, but it worked okay. Used the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. The surface temperature read as 34.5°c. A bit higher this time. Good!

I got settled on the computer for a slow, challenging, frustrating session on the Local Snippets blog. Not much went right the first time, and much correctionalisationing was needed. But then again, this is the usual scenario nowadays.

05:45hrs: As I got up to go for a wee-wee, right-loud clunking noises came from the flat above! I think Herbert must have had an Accifauxpa of his own. Didn’t bother me, mind; I was up anyway. I don’t think it was loud enough to be heard by anyone else who might have been trying to sleep. Not that the sanctified, consecrated, uncommunicative, ascetic, aloof, sniffy Herbert would be bothered.

Around 06:00hrs, I spotted the moon through the balcony doors, peeping through the thick clouds. So I searched and found the Canon camera, which I’d left on top of the microwave, and spent some time taking many snaps of the moon. Determined to try and get some decent ones this time.

I think I took about ten photographs of the planet in total, but these four were the only ones that came out fairy acceptablyish. At least, I hope so.

Back to the computer and blogging. However, things WordPress-wise came to an end for a while; why?

Fries salary has since been increased to $23 million!

The landline flashed and rang. It was from Natalie of the Health 7 Social Care team, called Meridian. To explain to me that they (Meridian) had had another no show, and my Carer should arrive by 09:00hrs. Nay fuss! Fair enough, at least they let me know.

When $23m salaried Liberty-Global, number-crunching, mist and mirrors boss Mike Fries, Virgin Media got the connection back, I pressed on making errors after mistakes on the blog. After a couple of hours, the card reader failed to identify the SD card reader… Grumph!

Eventually, my trial and error, or the computer did it on its own, the reader was loaded. I stopped doing the blog, and I caught up with other things. Email reading and replying. WordPress reader, then comments. Then on Facebooking.

Carer Elena arrived and looked after me in a caring and attentive way. (I loved that! Hehehe!) She had been called out to cover for the absentee. Elena Took the waste bags to the shute on her way out for me.

I got the blog done and posted and began the Local Snippets one. However…

.

Gnash! Groggleturds! Gorblimey Crap!

To done-in mentally to do any more blogging now. I got the ablutions tackled. Aye… Worra good session it wor! One little cut shaving, a very minor toe-stubbing, and no falls, walking into anything either! Medicated, refreshed, into the new PPs, night attire donned, and off to get summat to eat.

Deana called on me, and we had a mini-chinwag.

The thud, thudding started from above, so at least I know Herbert hasn’t snuffed it. Shame!

My only success of the day… Cheesy baked potatoes and sausages. Sound like nothing special? But I altered the recipe I usually use to make these treats this time.

  • Take the grated cheese out of the fridge an hour before needed. Best do it after starting the oven going.
  • Clean whole potatoes in a not too hot oven (180°), Part of the secret here, cooked at this lower temperature, but for longer. Top and bottom of oven selected.
  • The cheese, preferably Red Leicester, or any strong cheddar into a large basin. Put the cheese in this, then sprinkle some anchovy or distilled vinegar into the dish.
  • Add a good-sized knob of best butter.
  • After at least an hour and a half (according to the size of the spuds), check to make sure the potatoes are really soft with a semi crispy husk. (If unsure, you can sprinkle water on the spuds as you put them in the oven to cook).
  • Remove the pots when nice and soft inside, and cut them each in half on your chopping board.
  • Remember, once the oven is empty, turn the temperature up to 220°.
  • At this stage, expect burnt fingers, and be prepared to make a mess…
  • Save the skins to one side.
  • Spoon out the flesh into the pre-prepared basin and cheese. (You may need to apply Germolene to your fingers afterwards).
  • Mix well with a fork to start with. Then changes to a spoon. When you are content that you’ve ironed out any lumpy bits…
  • Spray the inner of the half-husks with a bit of vinegar or oil of your choice.
  • Load up the husks with the bashed-up potato-cheese mixture, in fact, overfill them a smidgeon, and press down with a spoon.
  • Then run a fork over the top of spuds so that they will brown off crisply and easily.
  • Get them back into the oven, and expect them, if medium-sized, to take 20 minutes to half an hour. But keep checking cause different varieties take different times to cook and brown off.
  • Traditionally, you can now treat any burns gather the many clumps and splashes of potatoes bits and cheese from the floor, cupboards and your clothing.
  • Once you are happy with the colouring to your taste of burntness of the half-potatoes, all you have to do is remove them and resist eating any before they get onto the plate!
Wunderbar!

Serving Suggestion wot I dun last week

I got settled in the recliner, and blissfully I fell asleep. Ah, nice!

“♫ Oh, Susana… ♫ rang out, and Carer Valerie came in. Couldn’t really have a natter as such cause she was on her mobile most of the time. But she granted me some time eventually. Hehe! Thanked her with some treats, and off she trundled. ♥

No messy tonight. I got the head down after Valerie had departed and remembered to take the Hemp capsule. It was lovely drifting off. I only woke up about for times, marvellous!

=  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =

Thursday 17th February 2022

Only a few wakings up during the night. I’m well pleased with that, but, on the fifth…

I more or less sort of bolted into wakefulness. Full of misapprehension, a muddled state of mind, and in desperate need of a wee-wee! Don’t know why I mentioned it now. Although it’s been this way for over a week now…

I worked out who and where I was as I tumbled out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and had wobbled like Charlie Chaplin to the wet room. I’m not sure why I did not use the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket); it would have been so much quicker?

Despite Bladder-Barry insisting that I needed a wee-wee so badly, things did not flow very easily. I waited patiently and could almost feel the flow coming from the innards… girded my loins as felt it invade Little Inchy… and a pathetic trickle evacuated, that was so painful! Aha, another infection! I wondered if I had any of the tablets left from the last one… but lost my train of thought when an instant need of the Porcelain Throne arrived; at the perfect moment while I stood above it… I thought.

Oh, dear, similar trouble as the wee-weeing? I got sat down, thinking things were going to erupt from the rear-end. I was still there ten minutes later, having a go at the crossword puzzle. Nothing much was moving much at all…

Then, an explosion of gas had burst free! Obviously, I didn’t see it, but I got the feeling that it had caused ripples on the water in the bowl. Instant relief of the pains! Within seconds a mammoth, rock-solid torpedo slowly, very slowly forced its way out, hitting the water before it was entirely out of the bum?

There was no discomfort with it at all? AS I stood up, the stool moved, and splash and clunk were heard… well, I think they did. No mess whatsoever. Mind you, there wouldn’t have room alongside that missile!

Got a good wash and beclothed my body. I went to make a brew of tea. I’m not sure what I did with the camera, but the photo I took of the morning view came out really vivid. I mean, it was around three o’clock in the morning; how did the Canon camera create light when it wasn’t there? Then I remembered dropping the camera last time I used it… argh… I wonder if it’s damaged? I’ll take shots of the Health Checks in a bit, see if the camera is okay this time. Or, did I change some setting when I retrieved the thing from the floor? I’m talking to myself again!

I went to get a duster to clean the computer screen and saw that the moon was appearing through the smallest hole in the dark clouds.

So I skedaddled and got the Canon camera post-haste and back to the kitchenette.

I had to photograph them quickly, cause I could see the clouds enveloping them all the time I was focussing.

One of the pictures came out in a different size to the others? I now have to assume that I broke something in the Canon when I dropped it on my foot yesterday?

Or is it me?

My progress on blogging has never been harder work than it is today. I am so frustrated.

I suppose with getting up early and the kerfuffle with the wee and Throne, added to the semi-confused state of my mind… this must have affected me in some way? Or am I just waffling again?

The care arrived after 07:0ohrs. The new gal, who is so confident. Kiya, I think, or maybe not. She spent a while chatting with me, trying to settle me, I guess. She also recognised I was not like my usual self. Damned good that, after just three visits. ♥

I spent a lot of time doing the header and top graphic. Got them done in CorelDraw and put them onto this blog… Then, realised I’d put the wrong dates on both of them… Gragnangles! It cost me another hour or more to get them amended and reposted!

Aha, I’ve not done the Health Checks yet! So I did them. Started with blood pressure taking. The figures looked okay to me.

Then on the temperature taking. Which was getting higher at last. Apparently, 35°c is my minimum target, they tell me. It’s the closest it’s been for a long time now. Jolly good show, eh?

I found on the SD card a photo I took earlier from the kitchenette window. Forgetting things and getting confused is the mark of the devil; Vascular Dementia Doreen!

Did I mention she’s moved in?.

I just had a visit from Dizzy Dennis. One of the instant jobs. I’m going to get off of blogging now, and get a sit-down, and try to do nowt for a while, Thought Storms permitting.

I made a meal of sorts, potatoes, a small microwave BBQ burger, and a lemon cheesecake. Nowt fancy, but I needed rest and sleep so much by then. Still, I did enjoy it, such as it was. Taste-Rating: 7.5/10.

Washed the fodder things and got down in the £300, c1968 recliner. Mind confused and so tired, and within minutes I was off visiting Sweet Morpheus… and dreaming with it.

Half-an-hour later, ♫ Oh Susana ♫ rang out as the Carer entered the flat. Carer Fria Freestone, at least I think it was. Fria soon got the medications sorted in a matter of fact way; she chose her treat; drink (Tequila) and nibble (Easter egg), and was soon off, bless her.

I checked the flat for anything not safe. Taps etc., and got back down in the recliner. At first, I struggled to get back to sleep, but thoughts of Jillie arose, and I was soon off once more into the land of Nod! Hoping to stay that way for once… I’ll see!