Inchcock: The Lesser-Red-Spotted Mad Professor Ziegler

I gorrup at 03:00hrs. Scribbled notes about a very short dream I’d had. And soon decided I was not up to much, the dang-dark Depression Gupta with me… all the way today. It was a constant battle to keep my pecker up. So no diary as such today, I spent hours and hours just prepping to get some graphic content to use later on in CorelDraw graphics.

Worked on getting the blog for yesterday finished and posted. The did a search for the graphics I needed. Time was belting along.

04:45hrs – 05:10hrs – and 11 further times: Herbert started with tap-tapping with the odd metal sounding thuds thrown in.

Tended to prep for Josies’ lunch, Wee-wees and two Porcelain Throne sessions.

07:50hrs: Cheeky Carer Charlie came.

Made sure I knew it was her birthday in two weeks time, I asked if she would like red or white wine, she kindly left it up to me. Hehe! Charlie said she’d remind abut again later. Haha! We had a mini-chinwag after she’s done the meds. She selected Rolos and a can of Vodka and lemonade for her treats today. Off she went, taking the bags of waste with her. Bless her! I had temporary relief from dank-dark Depression Gupta, while young Charlie was with me. It didn’t last of course.

J Sainsbury’s delivery arrived. Short-dated shelled peas and bean and cheese pasties (1 day). No milk or skin-on chips. Hey-Ho!

I got onto CorelDraw to start the first graphic. This took a few hours more, with me nipping in to check on Josies’ Chilli Beef nosh.

Dream Graphic wot I dun from last night

Dream as recalled: I was searching for someone, no idea who, but they had to found, I knew. Down some cellar steps, the first thing I saw was a foot with medication pad on it, high up on the end of a wall, sticking out of a drainpipe… Lost my balance with looking upwards and my hand and arm went through a brick wall, and I could not retrieve it… I looked around the back, and a ghostlike figure with knives, swords etc, was stood in the cellar corner wailing, a dome-like helmet on… Then flames came from a passageway…

And I woke up, to find unidentified crumbs in the folds of my belly and button, one sock one-off, and the emptied water bottle stuck between my legs?

Well, after many hours, it all takes so much longer with the eyes fading, I got this graphic completed. Amazingly, it came out close to how a part of the dream was.

I’m sure the whole dream only took seconds?

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Checked again on Josies’ fodder, all looking okay up to now, and got back to make start on an idea to

make one for Billum, I’ve called The lesser Red-Spotted Professor Ziegler.

Graphic wot I dun from last night:

HRH & the lesser Red-Spotted Professor Billum. carry on with their charity work. Here, having completed the brain transplant for Inchcock, they moved on to phase four and gave him a new head as well. Inchcock up and about twenty minutes after the operation. Which they did in Billum’s Home Physics Laboratory, in hope that some of the facts of figures on the board might be picked up by Inchcocks new brain and head; but…

Got Josie’s nosh delivered, no point in taking any photos, until I can find if there is a way to salvage the computer...

  Left the tap running, water went cold.

Made nosh, garden peas, buttered sourdough bread, and tomatoes.

Carer Dionne tonight.

Miserable mood, although Dionne cheered me up a smidgeon.

Compute troubles. Cataracts are making things hard. Feeling so weary and tired. Now cometh toothache… Crap!

Inchcock Today: Tuesday 15th February 2022: Farcicalisationing again!

Vascular-Dementia-Doreen Strikes Again!

Tuesday 15th February 2022

Another slightly better night, at least once I got off to sleep. Over the past couple of weeks now, I’d been jumping awake, nervously, anything from 5-minutes to half an hour after nodding off, but I’ve always been able, once I’ve fought off the Thought-Storms, that is; to get back into the land of nod swiftly again. Last night it was getting to sleep in the first place that was the problem. I even turned on the TV cause that usually helps me fall out of consciousness. But not last night, it was ‘orrible! Once did, the waking ups started, of course, but no more often than average. Hey-Ho! I’m losing faith in the Hemp capsules already.

So, it was later than usual when I did stir back into imitation life. Not that I noticed at the time, cause the need to utilise the Porcelain Throne was soon on me. Off to the wet room, and Gawd Blimey! Another wet but willing evacuation! I got things cleaned up… and the wet room was washed and changed into day clobber, teeth, eye drops, ear drops, Germolened Little Inchies final lesion, and Germoloided Harolds Haemorrhoids. It’s a job every morning and night this is! 

Made a brew of the J Sainsbury’s Extra Strong tea; this is not bad at all, but not up to the standards of Thompsons Punjana or Glengettie. Got on the computer to start updating yesterdays blog!

A flipping hard slog with the Shaking Shaun interference… I like that word, but why?

The intercom sounded and lit up. Hello, Sainsbury are good and early this morning! 

I gave the deliveryman two boxes and a carrier bag. He filled with the delivered items for me, and he put them through the door in the hallway for me. I slipped him a choice of drinkies in thanks, and off he trudged.

I’d not seemed to get much this time? Before sorting them out, I had a look on the web to see the order. A good few items are unavailable, and I’d ticked the no substitutes on them. Very risky letting Sainsbury’s make substitutes, I can tell yer! Still, some of luxury, spoil-the-old man foods had arrived, Hehehe!

How the fresh cream French Horns got requested is beyond my imagination… me? Buying fresh cream French Horns? Ahem! With whole cream milk? Lemon cream desserts, too? I also tried some JS own label Extra Strong Teabags. (Not bad at all!) The cheesy twist pastries looked good. I’ll have them later on tonight. Worra feast in store!

A few minutes after getting fodder stored away, ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chirped up from the doorbell, and in walked Carer Cassie. She’s brought with her the monthly prescriptions. While she was putting them away, I nattered away.

During which something came up in the one-way conversation. And as we went into the main room, I said I’d make a note to remind myself to phone the Doctor…

It then dawned on me… I could not find the Nokia! I always leave it to the computer’s right, as a rule. Where the charging cable can reach the phone from the socket?

Later, I felt an Ode coming on…

That if I could not find it this morning!
When Carer Cassandra came calling…
She set off, with me, both searching…
My hopes were not worth a farthing,
Of me discovering, finding…
My beloved mobile, a precious thing…
It was most irritating and frustrating…
Irking and embarrassing!
Cassie looked in every nook was persisting…
Every room searched, drawer-jostling…
Finding it? My hopes were now fading…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, it was very degrading,
We investigated under the chairs, it was so rilling,
Cassie carried on, with no getting ruffling…
Where can it be? Then I needed a wee-weeing…
Off to the wet room, not easy peeing and thinking…
Wondering where I’d put the danged thing!

I got back to the main room – & Cassie was smiling! ♥
With eyes that were brighter and twinkling…
She pointed out where she found the phone hiding…
Yes, Cassie found it, I gave her a kiss, but I was infringing,
But she gave me no whinging; I started singing!

We both began grinning and laughing!
I was so happy, I could have wet my underclothing!
It’s lovely to find a little joy in something…
Although later, I was scathing, scything, and seething…
At getting in such a mess… things I’m constantly losing,
I’m an expert on having things go vanishing!

With my telling her of my funny turn yesterday, I was unsure if cleaner Esther had called on me or not. Cassie pointed out that she could have moved the mobile; because the computer desk looked like it had been dusted. (which means it is usually dirty? Haha!)

Oh, I’ve not said have I, where the phone was found? It was moved a few inches from its usual position, but out of sight, underneath the keyboard! I feel a greater fool than ever now!

The blooming day was nearly gone by the time I started on this post! Getting the Monday blog finished after all the time spent searching for Nokia-Nigel, meant it cost me a total of over five hours before I got it finished and posted off. Adding the fact that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had joined with Shaking Shaun in making things nigh on impossible to type without so many errors… I should have been angry, but no… I was grateful that Cassie helped me find the mobile to use…

Then a Mega Mess! Could I  remember who I was going to call in the first place? Could I ‘eck as! Now, this is just how life is going for me at the moment…

I had the oddest thoughts and confusions. I was still grateful for Cassie finding errant mobile for me, and at the same time, felt worthless and full of self-loathing for not being able to recall who I needed to call!

There are people like lovely Lisa and Sister Jane, who I want to converse with. But no time left again! The evening carer is nearly due! And I’ve not had anything to eat yet! Ah, well, no wonder I’m not sleeping well.

I did a little Facebooking answered some comments. Then had a look at the WordPress reader. I just made the WP comments; now I shall have to give up blogging and prepare some fodder prepared… I imagine I will not be back until the morning.

Really weary now, just about done in, and the fodder had to be prepared, cause sometimes even hunger can survive the onslaught of weariness. (Ah, a touch of cleverness there, I thought?)

Bean and cheese and beef pasties, naughty cheese curls, slow-cooker destroyed potatoes by doing them for eleven hours! Tsk! Roast chestnuts and, sadly, the last of the black tomatoes. However, I did make too much of a plateful, and I was running out of eating-steam and considering abandoning the by now gruelling task of shoving any more food into my gullet, and…

♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chimed out from the doorbell. I instantly morphed into a smiling, happy, hopeful and cheerful chap; the moment that I saw it was Carer Julie coming into the room!

I asked her if she had enjoyed her holiday, as the others told me she was on. But she had been poorly, not on holiday. After giving me the medications, we had a too long chinwag and laugh. I mentioned that I had not paid her yet for posting the package to Lisa and Bill for me. And forwarded the thanks of Billum for her help. Showed her some photo’s graphics I’d done of Lisa and Bill, and she showed interest. ♥

But she really had to go; I had delayed her a long enough. I insisted she tool some treats and nibbles if only to help cover the cost of her doing the mailing for me. The last two little Natoora tomatoes from the fridge were taken. I do hope she and her partner enjoy them. ♥ Said my sad farewells to Carer Julie.

Washed, got down in the awesomely uncomfortable recliner, and prepared for the arrival of Sweet Morpheus

A mention of Sweet Morpheus, or sleep…
Sometimes he won’t let me get a peep…
This makes me tired, and I want to weep,
I’ve tried, it doesn’t work, counting sheep,
Nightly the wakings up rerepeat,
Insomnolence, can it be beaten?

Tonight, I gorrof to sleep really quickly…
Woke; pains from Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley,
I thought I’d been a kip for hours… ghastly…
I’d slept for ten minutes at most, eerie?
God of Sleep & Dreams, ignoring my sleep-deficiency?
Nodding back, and again started dreaming…
About ‘Man from Uncle’ Mr Waverley?

My shooting awakes, giving me hypertension…
Spent a while, in fretting and procrastination,
Back in the land of nod, minutes later, depression!
This time shaking from failed neurotransmissions,
Like a shot, back and deeply sleeping…
Why and how is beyond my comprehension…
Seems I’ve got a staying-asleep suppression?

Is it possible to get a sleep transfusion?
Will Sweet Morpheus be open to persuasion?
Can I bribe him or offer complete adulation?
Every time I nod off, I awake in absquatulation…
Can one invent a sleep button? Press for activation?
Or will I continue suffering mental altercation?

The Pure Hemp is bringing no sleep satisfaction…
I can see no improvement in my nocturnal hibernation,
I suppose I’ll be left with new mental disorientation,
I crave rest at times; there’s no commiseration,
I’d see the Doctor, but that’s another complication,
Hearing on the phone, she bounces back my email communication,

I see no way to make things better, somnambulatorily,
Fact is, today, I feel pretty poorly…
Awaiting the next Whoopsie…
Willing life to be hassle-free…
Asking profound questions of me…
Getting self-answers, of fiddledeedee!

Sad, innit?

Inchcock Diary & Local News Snippets Part 32⅔

Breaking News!

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Inchcocks Diary Wednesday 9th February 2022

Around 03:10hrs, I woke for the umpteenth time – I urgently needed to utilise the Porcelain Throne. Again, as I got up quickly, Dizzy Dennis visited me, but I didn’t fall back into the rickety recliner this morning. That must have pleased Harold’s Haemorrhoids; it did me, that Germoloid Cream is not cheap, you know!) However, I stubbed my right big toe on the doorframe going into the wet room… Which is better than clouting my shoulder on the doorframe!

Unfortunately, the evacuation was another loose, splotchy, messy affair. But not as bad as yesterday morning. I withheld going into a Smug-Mode, all the same.

Back to the main room. And as I got some clothes on, I chatted with my family, of fun furries. (Sweetly supplied my HRH Lisa, in the USA♥). They and even I seemed in a decent mood for once.

I got the kettle on and went to do the sphygmomanometerisationing, etc. The temperature first came out at 34.4°c. 93.92°f. I checked on Mr Google, who told me: “Hypothermia is a dangerous drop in body temperature below 35C (average body temperature is around 37°c). It’s a medical emergency that needs to be treated in the hospital! I really can’t understand this? I’ve been in the 34°c areas for over a week now, but no Health personnel have said anything? I wonder if I’ve got it wrong somehow? Hey-Ho! Confusion Conrad with me again. Did the Blood Pressure next. SYS 151, Dia 73 and Pulse 68. I’ll check these on the NHS site. Back in a bit…

Message back: A blood pressure reading of 151/73 indicates Stage 1 Hypertension (high blood pressure). Well, the Doctor knows about this, whether she’s bothered or not, I don’t know. I’m on tablets for high BP… I’ll check again… I found it; the Ramipril is for BP; should I take an extra one… or not? Oh, dearie me! One day last week, my BP MedPhorpainwas 171/65, but I didn’t feel poorly. The last thing I need is another stroke. Mind you, I’m not all the tickled pink with losing my eyesight and teeth. The hearing is virtually gone, anyway. Innit a life! I olive-oiled the ear-holes. Phorpain gelled the knees.

But I refused to wash or medicate Little Inchies fungal lesion with the darned, Oh sp painful Daktacort. This obviously is because it’s as disheartening as owt I’ve had! And my being a namby-pamby sissy, left it until later. Tsk!

I nearly made a cock-up, and took one of the capsules from Amazon that Esther said help you sleep better. They work for her brother, I think she told me. I got two bottles, one for Carer Richard, who mentioned when I told him of my waking up at night lately that he is suffering the same thing. But we must not take any in the morning, just at night to help us stay nodded-off! Har-har! Nice to be able to help out with him being a good lad.

I made a start on finishing yesterdays blog and got it done eventually. Then tried to make an order for J. Sainsbury’s. But the system was down again. Humph! Had to use Iceland. Ultra limited choice and crazy substitutions are their forte.

Started the template graphics for today’s post, and “Oh, Susana” chimed away as Carer Richard came in! The poor lad had his leg collapse on him last night, get strain and bruising. But, I cheered him up a smidgeon by giving him his CBD Hemp tablets I’d bought for us both to try. A tube of pain gel for his leg. A bottle of spring water, an Easter egg, and a can of plonk. He definitely left happier than he arrived; bless him. Don’t think I’ll see him until the following Monday now.

Richard departed sooner than Herbert kicked off with his tapping and banging. On and off all morning, but not too bad.

I got the kettle on and went back into the balcony to see the end car park parking. As near as I could tell, it looked just like yesterdays snap did? Have I made another cock-up. Whoopsiedangleplop or error? Yes, there is a difference twixt these maladies. Haha!

Back to the kitchen, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and had four chocolate biscuits with it at the computer as I pressed on, slowly getting the blog prepared. I made the top graphic for Bill and Lisa. I hope they like it. Oh, and took this photo above of the dank morning view.

I hope it doesn’t rain and make walking difficult for Richard with his leg – mind you, it would be more difficult perambulating without it. Hehehe! I am a fool!

Good heavens! Where’s the time gone to? It’s 14:00hrs already!

Better make a start on the Local news section then…!

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Animals! Back in a bit, but not happy with the first Snippet at all. Better have a perusal of the YourArea newsletter and get a few graphicalisations to use…

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I am really pissed off with myself now!

I got a rattling shake from Peripheral Pete as I was typing… the keyboard was knocked to the floor via the waste bin. I retrieved it after a while, and the shaking stopped…

Norton had taken over the Google Home page… I’d lost the favourites bar from the screen, and somehow, Gawd knows what I did in those few uncontrollable seconds, but I lost access to WordPress altogether! To make things worse, I had to go for the Porcelain Throne session again… with bleeding as well that had to be sorted – all the time worrying about the computer mess I’d made. Then I hit of all things, my chin on the grab bar rushing to get out of the wet room…To find the History folder had opened up…

When I got back to the computer, I could have cried… in fact I think I did a bit. Anger, self-recriminations, frustrations and a feeling of utter worthlessness enfolded every part of me, mental and physical!

How I avoided becoming a gibbering wreck needs looking into. Well, I didn’t avoid it altogether. Then, I struggled to work out what I had done to get into such a pickle.

It took me a good three hours to get the favourites and font listing back – all trial and error. I found the courage to try things I would usually avoid for fear of destroying something, not the foggiest what I was doing, but my managing getting those two things back was a miracle! Now, I have no Google, but I can access Firefox, and the most fantastic thing, is I now have hundreds of unwanted fonts appearing from somewhere? And they have slowed down the whole computer!

I got a green window come up, and again, I had no idea what it meant; it seemed in part code? Then after a good five minutes, it disappeared from the screen?

The greatest farce, I use the word farce, because I was panicking a lot and had no idea what it was I might have done right, but I now have WordPress back… hang on, I might not have… I’ll have to find out by closing and rebooting I think… It allowed me to save and close everything… Oh please, please, PLEASE, let it open; here goes…

I may be fretting over nothing, but it did let me reboot.

I’ve had the same opening screen saver for weeks now… a new one came up, with the genuine but different photo of me?

The VPN had to be reset or restarted. (Norton).

But I’ve calmed down tremendously now I’ve got back on WordPress. Phew! The tons of fonts are still on. They won’t let me delete them. I’ve got a… Shit my potatoes in the oven… They are relatively well done now.

The Carer will be due soon, I’ve had nowt to eat yet, and I am suddenly so hungry.

Packing in on the computer now. I’ll try to catch up in the morning, feeling a bit nervy now, better get the nosh sorted.

I took this sky view photo while getting the nosh sorted out. Unique cloud formations that look like ridges in the fabric of the sky? Could it be the exhaust from alien invaders spaceships? Hehe!

Again, not a fancy meal, but more than adequate for an old Nottinghamian with vascular dementia, a high heart rate, and losing the plot. Sea salt and butter on the potatoes, the gorgeous podded garden peas from Kenya. Brown, yellow and red mini-tomatoes (All tastier than I thought they may be). A small BBQ burger, a pot of yoghourt. Deserved Taste Rating: 8.6/10! Nothing like being precise? Har-har!

A bit of luxury, then. I put the TV on to watch a football match while eating the meal on the tray, balancing on my bulbous, adipose, abdominous, wobbly, far-too-large stomach.

I fell asleep for the last ten minutes of the game. Then started the search to recover the lost bits of the meal, primarily peas, from the areas they had managed to hide themselves in. Some, in open view (Using the torch anyway).

I hobbled to put the light on so I could see things, unknowingly crunching several peas that had rolled on the carpet en route. Two of which squelched in between my toes and were a painful devil to get at to remove.

Two or three had found their way into the dressing gown pocket. Several in the fleshy folds of the tummy rolls. Some underneath the cushions on the recliner. A few on the side chair used by the Carers… I’m not sure how they got that far or high? Mayhaps, the most surprising escapee pea was found stuck on my left hearing aid! This was not spotted until I had a wash later?

You know that sometimes, Vascular Dementia Doreen can bring forth an amusing little Whoopsiedangleplop or Accifauxpas. That does little harm, and even to me afterwards, as in this instance, can bring forth mirth and the odd self-chuckle! Although stubbing my right big toe while bending to search under the cabinet for skedaddled garden peas was a little painful.

Got the washing up done and off for a wash. (Finding the squashed garden pea on the hearing-aid? Hehehe!)

Belated Carers arrived; due to training new gal, Kiya. Cheeky little monkey, I like her. Offered treat nibbles, said my farewells, but neither gal took the waste bags to the chute for me… so I took them.

Then, I remembered to take one of the new CBD Pure Hemp capsules. I’m hoping they will help with the recent lousy nights of sleep. I’ve been waking up, anything up to twelve times a night, and occasionally more often. Almost jumping or jerking awake. Fingers crossed! But the nurse said that it will take a few days to have any effect.

The capsules are transparent, and the contents look a little like tobacco, or maybe cannabis? Either way, the capsule slipped down easily enough. They are very light, which made me think they may be difficult to swallow, but, no problem. On this first one anyway! Hopefully, in a few days, I can find some proper undisturbed nights of rest? 🙏

The Thought Storms began as soon I got seated in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety, none-working recliner. But the brain was defending me, I think. The memories of the cock-ups with the computer seemed to be masked? A mystery again as to why. But for some reason, the self-recrimination and hatred were very mild and only fleeting. Only the positive side of the days’ events was mused over??? Those are the only words I can use in describing m thoughts at that time.

In the early hours of the morning, the noise that woke me was atrocious. The loudest ever humming noise I’ve heard? Where from? I’m not sure. It may have been the dreaded not understood ‘Hum’. Or the machinery on the roof of the building? Or even a combination of both. Overnight, my sudden awakenings added up to about only six or so. Please let the Hemp capsules work!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchcock’s Morning Musings – In Ode

Inchie Woke With An Idea For Today’s Blog Theme!

He went into Photographicalistical mode straight away. Well…

And after the traditional painful, challenging wee-wee,
He got his Canon camera and dropped it, accidentally,
Well, he’s getting senile now and rather elderly…
His thoughts and actions are slow, performed dottily,
He hurt his back, bending to retrieve it; he needed another pee!
Yet it still worked, so he took his first photo, jauntily…

He took it from the balcony,
The red van parked, again, illegally…
Yesterday, the lights shone brightly…
This photo came out fairish – a periodicity!

Clear morning, t’was no longer foggy…
The following two shots were taken in duplexity…
Top one to the north-east,
Second to the south-east,
Not so good these, my apology!.

He took an extra snap, using technology…
He’d zoomed in, to him that’s using gadgetry,
He went into a smug mode, as he did one correctly!
He even charged up the battery…
For him, that’s technological activity!

But the twerp couldn’t get the card to work
The computer was confusing the burke!
Card reader not recognised, he went berserk!
From his efforts, he did not shirk…
And by some miraculous quirk…
He got it to work, the jerk!

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After making a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, stubbing his toe, and dropping the milk bottle, he cleaned the mess up. Took his CBD.

The formula was frivolously formulated for phrasemaking while Inchcock was busy cutting himself shaving. He can’t recall what it was exactly but decided that as he continued with his ablutions and medicationalisationing, he might get inspiration or a vague idea for a new plot. But, by the time he stopped the chin bleeding and utilised the Porcelain Throne, the earlier plan of his blog’s theme had plodded off into the ether, lost forever…

Teeth cleaning, nasal decongesting, and into the shower. Inchie banged his shoulder against the power-box (Dizzy Dennis to blame). Swore violently. Took his shower, then set about doing his medicationalisationings.

These went reasonably well (Did I say that?) The most painful bit of agonistically applying the stinging Betamethasone cream really was nowhere near the pain it usually was? This was a good start.

Treating Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Ankle-Ulcer-Herbert. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Saccades Sandra, Duodenal Donald, Back-Pain-Brenda, Little Inchies, Fungal Lesion were all medicated. The none Carer and prescription items were applied to many parts of the body.

Saccades eye drops. He was gobsmacked at getting some of the liquid into the eye, for once. Of course, he managed to get some in his nose and mouth as per usual.

A second hobbling speedily attended visit to the Porcelain Throne was followed by taking two Dioctyl® capsules. To counter Trotsky Terence’s return! Messy, very much so! Took ages to clean things up afterwards.

Carer Richard arrived. Soon got the medications sorted, and he made sure I took them and didn’t drop any, bless him.

It was his last call, so he spent a little while having a chinwagging session with me. The lad’s gone through many similar procedures as I have, but poor Richard got them a lot earlier in his life. Which I appreciated.

He’s coped amazingly well with things. A caring bloke, too.

He seemed to be cheery,
And, off Richard did flee,
I had another pee…
Colour chart for the wee,
Was on number three,
Now six, it smelt musty!
Oh, back to the lavatory,
Oh, what a malady!

Well Into The Afternoon…

But no one had told Inchcock, the chatterbox…
Chattering to himself, sipping dandelion & burdock!
Thinking he may just wash his socks…
A message comes through on his voicebox…
Unsolicited mail, through his letterbox…
He forgets the socks: arrears in his Carer fees shocks!
Over £400 – Oh, Hollyhocks!
That’s not what he said, but it also rhymes with Bullocks!
He plans to get it paid by the following equinox!

Supplementary Information

A change of nosh style, I’m watching the size of my hips!
Vegetarian sausages, peas, swede and lentil potatoes…
C
hilli sauce, onion gravy, a banana, oranges…Oh, and chips!
I forgot to take from the fridge the tomatoes…
And now my rear quarters blows and blows!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme Series

Inchcock: Gloriouslly Inane – Saturday 5th December 2020

♥ TFZer Winner ♥

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Saturday 5th December 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 5ed Rhagfyr 2020

02:20hrs: I stirred, dreary-eyed, and found in the folds of my tummy fat layers, a page from the notepad, and as I looked down, a pencil dropped from behind my earhole. The reading glasses were hanging on the very end of my nose and fell off to join some (I found as I began to move), biscuit crumbs as well. Nocturnal Nibbling Guilt!

The scrawl on the paper was hard to decipher. Bits I could make out were, ‘dreams put in the blog’ and ‘wee-weeing…’ But unfortunately memories of having the dreams I’d apparently had were lost into the ether. They must have been interesting, or I would not have made the regrettably unreadable comments on the pad. Shame!

I went through the routine of getting up, catching the balance easily enough this morning. Noticing that the ankle ulcer was clearing up so quickly (Not complaining). The papule underneath the left foot was still tender, even though it had grown back on the bottom of the foot.

I tended to the Health Checks first.

The Harpin Xian Di Thermometer gave a good reading of 36.7°c, a very fair, in the green range result. Then, I got the sphygmomanometerisationing machine out to use, wondering if it will take a few tries to get it to work today, and worked on the third effort: The SYS was still a little too high, but it’s been worse many a time.

As I took the medications, I thought I heard a noise coming from the hallway, I went to investigate. There was a letter on the floor at the door, but that must have been there from yesterday. No one would be posting letters at 03:25hrs of a morning, so that wasn’t the noise I heard. No signs of anything fallen was identified, so I returned, and got the medications taken.

Then I opened the letter. It was an eight paged A4 notification, from HMG (Her Majesties Government), Department of Health & Social Care. It consisted of the following: Guidance for the festive period – Shielding – Access to health & care – Important Information about Covid-19 – Access to Additional Support – Vitamin D supplements – Socialising -Care & Support – Tier 1, 2, and three rules to follow – Going to the shops and Pharmacy regulations. Whether or not I will live long enough to read and digest it all, is questionable.

But, Hatt Mancock’s… sorry, Matt Hancock’s end quote of “We will Continue To Support You in your efforts to keep yourself & others safe!” gave me a warm-glow of bile, that did.

I assume he may be talking about my not getting my prescriptions without a battle on the phone each month with the Chemist I must not visit, to get them delivered? Or being unable to get my toe-nails cut? Or the cancelled Oncologist – Cardiothoracic – Endocrinologist – Pulmonologist – Neurologist – Urologist and Audiologist cancellations?

Or maybe as is likely, he’s more working towards the next general election than actually bothered about us all. He feels a bit of creeping and ersatz care pretending now, belatedly shown will ensure the votes? Who knows? You can’t blame him! Hahaha! 

I remember the then New health secretary Matt Hancock receiving £32,000 in donations from the chairman of the think tank that wanted the NHS ‘abolished’! Matt Hancock received nine donations between £2,000 and £4,000 from the man who heads the board of the free-market group, the Institute of Economic Affairs.

I also remember him, defending his spending almost £50,000 on takeaways for his staff from just one London restaurant during the peak of the Covid crisis. The Department of Health and Social Care (DHSC) spent a total of £47,528 on takeaways from Bong Bong’s Manila Kanteen earlier this year, a Freedom of Information (FOI) request has revealed. Just nine orders costing £43,348 were placed at the fashionable “Filipino-inspired” eatery during April, then another £4,179-worth of orders placed in March! Just thought I’d mention it!

I got the updating of the Friday post done quickly. Sent it to WordPress. Did some Facebooking catch-up, then on the WordPress Reader section. Finally, got around to site comments.

Made the first mug of Glengettie tea of the day, and had a bag of Frazzles with it, well, no time for brekkers, I have to get on with making the templates up.

I took regular breaks over the.. wait for it… seven-hours I spent, getting the templates finished! The first being for some brekkers, of sorts. I had a pot noodle, and some nuts to nibble.

Back on the template slog.

Turned everything off computer-wise, to let it cool down, and got the ablutions done.

The ankle was looking much better now, but had still got the odd itching, with it? Feeling as if worms or maggots were underneath the skin?

The session went safely enough, dropsies of course, and just the one nick shaving.

The medicating went so easy as well!

I got the clothes all washed and sanitised afterwards and hung them on the dreaded, not used now if I can avoid it, doing so by not wearing any socks, Sock-Glide.

I must make an order for delivery soon, I’m low on disinfectants.

I got the unopened old but ere new when I bought them, trousers on. They were classed as brown, but only just. Hehe! 

They fitted perfectly. Well, what I mean is; The legs were far to narrow, my ever-growing, bulging, flabby-belly made it hard work to fasten the waistband clip, the pockets were too small, the cotton thread hung from the bottom of the legs, the belt buckle supplied with the trews broke. The bum fitted a little too snuggly. Other than that, they were fine. Oh, and the back pocket had a hole in it!

I hand-washed the old black trouser, all done, done, rung and hung above the sink to drip dry.

Back to the templating. I got the computer going again, and got a message telling me that the hard drive is running low in space. I’ve no idea where the message came from, Microsoft, Google or the computer. After a few moments of frowning and fretting – the message disappeared?

I took a breather, of sorts when it started to be a grind, rather than pleasure, in doing the CorelDrawing.

I made up the small waste bags, added them to the others in the box, and got them on the three-wheeler guide, and taken off to the waste-room and down the chute. As I got into the lift lobby, I used the Cannon (It’s far easier to use when on the move, cause it fits in the pocket, which the Nikon Bridge camera will not do, too big). The first one, the view as I entered the lobby straight ahead, the none along the length of the lift lobby, and one as I turned around and snapped the three flats lobby. Mine being the solitary single one on the right. It was eerily quiet out there! With no workers, no noise from Herbert, and even the blasted ‘Hum’ seemed quieter to me?

I got the bags down, in the process gaining a pretty deep blue bruise on the knuckles as I trapped the hand as the lid shot back closed.

Back to the apartment, and took these shots of the darkening day from the gallery.

Back to the templating again. I worked through uninterrupted for a few more hours. Got the templates finally finished and began thinking of what to have for my nosh. As I nosied around to see what was available, favouring doing the meatballs and potato shapes, to help clear the freezer, then I can free Jenny’s space up and fetch the meatballs she has kindly stored in her freezer for me.

Then it hit me, the usual late weariness, lack of concentration and feeling of being oh, so tired and worn out.

I decided against doing the meatballs, in case I fell asleep with them being in the oven for much longer. I got the potato shapes out of the freezer, and dropped the damned bag, catching it before it hit the floor, but a few of the shapes fell out. I noticed as I picked them up that the letters spelt ‘Thick’. (A link there somewhere?)  – Ah, clairvoyant potatoes? Hahaha!

The sky was changing as I farted-about making a right mess in preparing the cooking. Nicolas’ Neurotransmitter had been so kind all day. Still, it now was causing some dangerous situation with the oven and saucepan, like. I took a photo and another close-up of the picturesque peeping pink evening view.

Getting the pasties and potatoes out of the fridge, I caught my right arm on the oven. Puggleclumpdimwit! Ah, well!

I got the fodder l plated, and was amazed at the fact that I’d just made this meal! I was so, out-of-it, and drained? I must have engaged auto-pilot—a taste-rating of 7/10.

Too was tried to bother doing the washing up, and I required Sweet Morpheus.

But the Thought-Storms destroyed my hopes. Spurgledamnations!

Inchcock, Wed 2 Dec 20: Nottinghams answer to ambivalence

That’s my kind of salad Pattie! ♥

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Wednesday 2nd December 2020

Zulu: NgoLwesithathu 2nd December 2020

02:25hrs: I woke, in a generally more optimistic mood. I’ve not got the foggiest idea why? The dreaded ‘Hum’ was with us again, but not as loud as yesterday.

As I began assembling enough thoughts and ideas to start planning what needed doing, what day it was etc. the need for a wee-wee, worryingly urgently, arrived!

No EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) was in its usual position? So, obviously, I couldn’t have had one during the night. Maybe this is why the urgency was so acute?

The process of getting up, catching the balance (dodgily), hobbling in agony with the papule underfoot, getting to the WC, and taking the abysmally dribbling, weak, tinkle, took me a while.

And now here I was with the new Sainsbury’s substituted medium for large-sized Protection Pants, torn while dropping them, and lay down around my ankles! A flaming good start to the day! I saw that a bit of blood had leaked from Little Inchies fungal lesion – this is because Sainsbury’s substituted with smaller pants and they must have chaffed at the wound. I put on one of the old normal white PPs. So much for me waking up in a better frame of mind, that silly idea, soon dissipated!

As leaving after the kerfuffle and sorting out, I had to go back in, to use the Porcelain Throne! Do you know, ‘someone idiot warned me over 70 years ago, that a time will come as get old when I will be bored!’ He lied! Giggle!

However, the mode of evacuation was almost the opposite of Tuesdays. Trotsky Terence had the upper-hand today, a 2-1 win I’d say! It was grand not having to struggle, and besides that and also, there were only tiny bits of bleeding! Oh, yes! Mind you, it still hurt, just a lot less.

I got on with the Health Checks, remembering today (I forgot yesterday, but had the photos on the blog to find the numbers) to fill in the record logs. The Boot’s sphygmomanometer showed an increase in the SYS up to 161.

The Harpin Xian Di Thermometer was again in the green, at 36.4°c was about right methinks.

I took the medications. Having forgotten to take last nights yet again! I must remember to take the morning ones later on. Then, I went to make a brew and had a mind-bending experience… “I thought, I’ll have a mug of the decaffeinated crap, then I can tell the doctor the truth when I say, “Oh, yes, I’m drinking the Yorkshire brand of no tealess teabags, regularly” Ahem!

After getting the kettle on, I took three shots from the kitchens unliked, light & view-blocking new windows of the morning view. I tagged them together later, left, ahead and to the right order. I think it gives a better idea of the marvellous view I can get from my prison cell… erm… flat!

I used two tea bags in the little mug. Hopefully, this might produce a brew that resembles something like tea. I left the bags in for a full five minutes to mash properly, holding out high hopes of success. Ersatz Crap! But so as not to fib to the lady Gastroenterologist, I have two sips, before getting a proper mug of Glengettie made.

As I took the photo of the mug of tea, a message came up on the camera viewing screen; ‘This battery is empty’ – Oh! I got in on charging and using the old little Canon until the Nikon battery had been rejuvenated.

I got on with updating the Tuesday blog. It took a good few hours, but I got there in the end. Emailed the link, Pinterested some photos, and did the Facebooking catchup. Good timing as well, cause SSS (Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley) then started to kick-off, had she this earlier, I’d still be doing the updating about next Wednesday, judging by the way she is going at me at the moment. Within ten minutes, the joint was aching thanks to her concentrated attack!

Reading a blog from Doug, about his beloved cat Andy, brought back memories of Sister Janes, Fooey. A similar cat to Andy, but white. The poor chap had arthritis, went almost blind… and never lost his sociability with people. The noises he used to make… I loved that cat. He passed away, I think JAne said he was fourteen at the time. This is one of the last photos I took after he’s had a home-perm from Jane. I am not ashamed to say, looking at him, and writing this, I’m swelling up inside. Doug has recently lost Andy’s brother, Dougie. I hope this doesn’t upset him. I check his and Andy’s site on WordPress.

  I went on the WordPress Reader section, some interesting stuff on there today. Answered the flood of WordPress comments, both of them! You can see how popular my blog is, Hehehe!

Time to get the Ablutionalisationing tended to. And believe me, the teeth cleaning, shaving and showering, all went very well, remarkably so! Oh, yes, indeed!

The medicationalisationing was not so good! The spot or papule under the left foot, looks different today, just as painful, but like an ordinary spot? It had grown back as well, was no longer half-hanging off of the foot? Most peculiar! I spotted a little tiny new growth coming, below the little toe, that should be interesting, seeing what it turns out as, Haha!

The hardest part of this checking, was my getting my leg up on the right one, to take this photo. I dropped the camera, banged various part of my anatomy… several times, as SSS sent me all over the place hitting various parts of the wet-room furniture (No soft parts, of course) Getting the leg back down again, was slightly more serious, the shock from the pain of standing on the papule again, combined with SSS having another bash at me, Arthur Itis not liking the knee being bent, a toe-stubbing against the sock-glide, and bashing my knee against the shower chair… Well, it was interesting!

Foolishly, I sat down again to take a close up photograph of the veins in the left leg, I could only get it up to the right legs kneecap this time. I think I have a mini-vein eruption? Hahaha! Very pretty, all the same.

I put the fist of the Amazon pants on to try today. They look bigger than the Sainsbury ones – Der! they would, they are a size larger! See how quick I’d worked that out?

They are not the pattern or colour of those shown in on the  Amazon site, though, nothing like! Humph! As you can see, they are the same shade as the Sainsbury ones. No pattern to them. I felt a little cheated. Still, they are the right size, so they’ll have to do. The comfort and lack of warmth in then os on a par with the Sainbury wrong-size substituted ones, but I feel more confident that when the next ‘leak’ comes along, these will be more likely to cope with it.

The Phorpaining of Arthur Itis’s knees, SSS’s painfully aching shoulder, the Germoloiding of poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and even the Cortiscoid creaming of Little Inchies fungal lesion, all went well. Smug-Mode-Adopted! 

All dressed, I left the wet room and got straight on with the days handwashing. I did the bath towel I’d just used and jammy bottoms.

All washed, done, rung and hung above the sink. I then got the water spillages mopped up, laundry bottle cat found and retrieved. Then made up some small waste bags and put then in the box on top of the three-wheeled trolley guide, using the Nokia again now to take the photos, that charged up quick? Ah, done it again, I meant Nikon camera! 

As I got back on the computer to make a start on this post, some loud taps tapping and banging started from Herbert’s flat above, right above where I sat. It was so loud, and persistent for an hour or so that I imagine it would be some repairs being done for him. Or, he might have been making a real life-size train for his charity? Hahaha!

I made a brew, of Thompsons Punjana, and went on CorelDraw to make some graphics for the page tops of the diary. I was having a bit of bother with getting CorelDraw to work, and frustration and fatigue set in, so I turned off the whole computer, and got something to eat, anything easy to do, I was so tired.

I got thinking and opted to make something I could do all in one – so got the oven on, with fish strips, and potato-letters in the kiln. Sliced some tomatoes, put desserts on the trayed plate, and the banging, knocking and clumping started again. It was very closed and loud, I reckon it’s some upgrading work being done judging by the noises, it was being made by several people, it’s been on and off all day. This must be them rushing to get the work done before going home time. (Of course, I might be wrong about all of this, it has been known).

I got the rushed-meal served up, on the tray, and to the recliner I did stray, ‘Please stay wake’ I did pray, long enough to eat it.

I had a bit of help the instant I got done in the recliner with the food, the bang-bang banging, started again. It had a sense of it being rushed. Perhaps the lads were trying to get it done and over with quickly? It didn’t last long this last ‘Hurrah’, I assume the lads will be going home now. Will they, like Arnie, be back? Hahaha!

I’d put the TV on using the headphones to help mask the last of the banging session. Aha, Law & Order was on! I ate the meal (during which the banging stopped for the day), and I went to wash the pots. Then back down in the recliner.

My mind wanted to just sleep, and somehow avoided the Thought Storms, which was – Brilliant!

However, the body wasn’t so keen on kipping! A wee-wee was needed, and as I got up, I felt the splitting/cracking of the seal of the cortisone cream on Little Inchies fungal lesion; and the flow of blood starting!

Off to the wet room for investigating and medicationing. The bleeding was far less than I thought it was, and the Amazon-delivered PPs had coped well it, containment-wise. I washed and re-creamed Little Inchy, I got fresh PP’s on, and bagged up the old ones and took them to the waste bag box in the hallway.

By the time I’d got down again, the idea of getting to sleep was destroyed by the return of the Thought Storming. I’m not sure what time I drifted off, but it was hours later, after battling the guilts, shames and frustrations.

Yet, when I woke up, around 00:45hrs, it was with a slight spring in the air-feeling?

Inchcock, Nottingham’s Answer To Haemorrhoids – Tuesday 1st December 2020

One of the Younger TFZers! Haha! ♥

Tuesday 1st December 2020

Maori: Turei 1st o Tihema 2020

03:30hrs: Sometimes, one isn’t really, too keen on getting up, and would rather just lay there, and uhtceare instead, trying to avoid any dangerous or serious signs of any expergefactor that may be lurking. This was one of those mornings.

The oh, so late getting to sleep after yesterdays farcicalness, favourable moments, and frustrations, meant only four hours kip, and annoyingly when I did wake, it was one of those jump-awake ones. Cragnangles!

I rose from the recliner onto my feet, in need of a  wee-wee, and hobble to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and on the first shuffle of the feet, got an electric-shock like stabbings of pains from the papule underneath the left foot. I’ll have a check on it later, the plaster may have come off in the night and is pulling at the pimple?)

The Sainsbury’s substituted wrong-sized Protection Pants had not handled the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), and AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) well, at all. Also, they held less comfort and were not very warm to wear. Thank you, dear silly-Substitutes Lord Sainsbury, Baron, and Knight of the Garter. I hope your personal wealth increases from the current £1.4 billion. Carry on with stupid substitutes and it will. Better hurry though, after all, you are 93!

I went into a sort of auto mode then. Washed my hands, into the kitchenette and put the kettle on. I took some pictures from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new windows, to first try and get a decent shot of the moon. On taking the first effort, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) paid me a visit and left me with this almost looking like a lightning snap. So, had another bash, and got a fairish result.

I got a reasonable zoomed in a bit shot, of Sherwood, with Basford, Perry Road HMP, and the lights from Bulwell and the motorway on the horizon. (I know you can’t see them, but it makes me sound cleverer, Hahaha!) Then a blind shot of the car park below on Chestnut Walk, only one red car this morning. (I hope Billumski The Chairman and Director of the RCMS from Utah is making a note of this) As I got the brew of Glengettie made, SSS returned, and sheer good luck with her timing, meant no spillages or Accifauxpas. Good luck? For me, and so early in the day…? Nae, this can’t be right! You can take it from me, via my EQ, that summat Whoopsiedangleplopish is in the air and on the way!

I got the sphygmomanometer out, and the machine needed three goes to get it to work. Mind you, the reading was down a smidge more, for the third day on the trot! But I’m not getting excited about it, not with my luck. Egads, no!

The Chinese made contactless thermometer, made with plastic from India, and imported from Soth Korea, showed a temperature of 36.2° c. Which I think is not too bad at all. 

I got the medications out, and realised I had yet again, not taken last night’s! So, I did. Must remember to take the morning ones later on. Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got the computer on. I had to divert to the Porcelain Throne, then.

And, what a change in style that was today! I got seated, as directed by the gastroenterologist had advised me… well, commanded me really! The wait for any action to start was a long one. That’s when I got the crossword book from the cabinet. After an aeon or two of puzzling, I adopted the recommended straightening of the lower back while I was leaning and pushing the shoulders… Nothing happened… Apart from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda)  starting to give me a pasting! Granglesbognessbuggerit! I think she was still annoyed at my tumble last night.

Once a slight motion, a forced pone though, was felt, slowly, grindingly and needing painful encouragement, things eventually moved… reluctantly, painfully, and at a snail’s pace! I was close the giving out a, Argh!, but held it back.

No doubt about it, Trotsky Terence was whipped 5-0 by Constipation Konrad this time.

As I rose from the seat to have a decker at what had caused all this agony, I was taken aback by the amount of blood that had exited. I got myself cleaned up, washed the tender areas, and applied some very welcome Germoloid ointment to Harold’s Haemorrhoids! You should have seen my walk back to the kitchen, well, maybe not!

In keeping with my fantasmagorical luck, I now had several additional ailments to contend with all at the same time, which made hobbling somewhat difficult. Still, it must have been most hilarious for anyone to watch. The head was aching a bit from the fall, the lower back was being taken care of by a particularly, violent BPB, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids have rarely been more painful! Then Dizzy Dennis joined in as I was in the hallway – not again, I prayed! I don’t think I would be able to get back up again if I did topple over now.

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, each one I’ve made has gone cold for one reason or another. Humph! I was showing no signs of wanting any breakfast today. But I did take an extra Dioctyl® poo-softener capsule (And another one later!)

I concentrated of updating the Monday blog. It took a while, and some odd noises were coming from somewhere nearby, sounded like someone was dropping wooden blocks repeatedly? I might be something going down the chute a little early? Anyway, I got the post finished and sent off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and went on Pinterest, and it was soon time to get the ablutions done.

I took this shot of the moon on my way to the wet room.

At last, a decentish ablution session. It had it’s moments though. The dropsies were about average, I reckon.

The shaving was smidge hair-raising, and that’s not easy when you have no hair! Hahaha!

All the cuts and nicks were from the back of the neck. It’s not fair hair growing there and nowhere else! Snigger!

No shower today, the Iceland order is due, oh, and the Amazon PPs might be arriving today. After an easy medicationing session and getting dressed, I hand-washed the long-sleeve tee-shirt.

The day was breaking and the sky clearing, an amazing colour too. I managed to get a reasonably decent shot of the late moon before it disappeared.

Suddenly it very busy! The intercom rang, it was the Amazon man with the PP’s for me. He came up and put them in the hallway for me. Followed by the Iceland driver, he also put the bags into the hallway for me, bless ’em both.

I took the carriers through to the kitchen, intending to sort out the frozen and fresh stuff first. But I was so interested in seeing the new PP’s I couldn’t resist sorting them first instead.

I got the box onto the server in the kitchen and struggled a bit to get the plastic cover off of the box. It was only thin material, but by gum it strong!

I got it off in the end! I wish they would sell them of this strength to use as bin bags, I made up[ waste bags as I went along.

The three packs of eight looked similar to the other ones from Sainsbury’s, but were cheaper and the correct size.

I’ll try them on afterwards I thought, then changed my mind, I’d got the Sainsbury ones on at the time. They are not very warm and a little small, if I had a bad leakage, I don’t think they would cope with the amount of blood. I put them in the wet room with the others and sorted the groceries out.

Oh, dearie me, what have I done here? I’d ordered in error, two bags of the frozen meatballs, also two of the fish strips in the batter. I imagine because they were on offer if you bought two, I’d unthinkingly ordered two of each. No way will I have space in the freezer for them all! I struggled to make room for one of each in the freezer.

I’ll see if Jenny can use the others. The other bits went in the fridge, okay, mind. I cleared up[ a bit (when I say a bit, I mean it! Haha!), and got the bags with the fodder in, and a box of waste-bags on the trolley.

I set out, with intentions of going to Jennys (I phoned her on my way, with my new Samsung-Galaxy S20 Ultra-mobile, 512MB, £1,399 for 128GB storage, with its gargantuan 6.9in display, and hole-punch camera, and ‘Space Zoom 100x’), and then to go and see Deana and Julie, then back to the flats and put the rubbish bags in the waste chute. But life is never that clear-cut for a twit like me!

Then a series of Inchcock-Hiccups followed!

I dropped the bag at Jenny’s, bless her, she said she’d keep the fish and meatballs in her fridge of a few days until I get the room in my freezer, to take them back. Appreciative of Jen’s help, and feeling in higher spirits now, I set of in the lift down to the ground floor. I met the caretaker, and he took the bags off of me. After a little natter, I limped along Chestnut Way to Winwood Court, and Deana’s Interrogation Cells. (Haha!)

As I arrived at the Winwood doors, I realised I had left the wrong bag with Jenny! What a pillock! So I had to go back to Jenny’s to swap the carriers. She was very understanding about it and met me at the door, and we exchanged the containers. I was feeling a little silly, but worse was to come later!

I made my way back down and out to Winwood Court again. As I approached the lobby, I realised I did not have a keyfob with me. Glory-Be and Granglesbognessbuggerit!!! Then a stroke of luck! A workman was entering the building, and I tagged on behind him and got in! Had a chinwag with Deana and Julie, told them of my cock-ups, that made them laugh.

Back to Woodthorpe Court. Where Robert let me in through his side door! And I made my way back up to the flat. I was feeling rather foolish at my Accifauxpas and was beginning to get annoyed with myself.

I made a brew of Glengettie, surely this time, I can get to drink one? But, no! Not yet! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters let me down, just I picked up the brewed mug of tea – on the Silver lining side, the mug fell in the plastic waste bin and not the floor, so didn’t break! Unfortunately, I scolded my wrist and spilt tea on my trousers, which didn’t do the legs any favours! Then I had to clean everything up! I was tired out and on the verge of getting depressed now!

Gone my head-down time. But, Jenny had told how to cook the meatballs, I had planned to have chips with them, but cooking the balls in the oven, I decided on having potatoes, peas and gravy. I got the oven on. And checked on comments on WordPress

I’ll get the meal served up then. Fingers crossed. Jenny was right when she told that doing the meatballs in the oven, they would come out crispy. They did, and I liked them. Added them to the peas and potatoes in the big saucepan, made some thick gravy and added it to the mix, and warmed through. Got the pots made a mess off washed, stirring the mix in between. Got it dished up and enjoyed the Flavour-Rated 7/10 meal with some bread thins to soak up the gravy—a lemon yoghourt for afters. I was getting more and more tired, so I got up to get the pots washed properly, in case I fell asleep and dropped the tray etc.

Settled in the recliner, drained mentally, wanting to free the eyelids to do what comes naturally. The absence of any Thought-Storms was appreciated. But the vacuum left in my hypnagogic state was filled with a blankness that was not blank… hard to explain. Still, weird worries drifted in, and, more disturbingly, were treated with contempt and annoyance at their even being there?

I must have fallen asleep, cause I woke up at 02:20hrs.

Inchcock – Sat 28.11.20: Your certified dyspathy, nervous-anxiety, trepid, and abstracted psychotic’s diary!

TFZer Keith, fishing? Haha!

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Saturday 28th November 2020

Croatia: Subota, 28 Studenog 2020

04:45hrs: I stirred and reluctantly opened my eyes, closed them, and nodded off again. Uninterested in life, or stirring from the warmth of the c1968 recliner.

05:00hrs: Woke, and nodded off again. Loathing the thought of having to move, I needed an expergefactor; yet was venerated, well-pleased when it didn’t come.

05:20hrs: Woke, and was even more determined not to rise and partake in life again. A smidge of guilt as I was writing down the time on the Inchcock Today notepad, realising I’d been sleeping for at least eight, much-needed hours. More than I have slept for in twenty-eight years! Great!

05:40hrs: Back into semi-life mode. No calls for a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne, so I nodded off again.

0645hrs: This was the end of my first sleeping-in, overlaying session, whatever you want to call it; I could feel the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) was gathering in readiness for an escape bid. So, after fumbling about in an odd sort of panicky fashion to get free of the recliner, and catching my balance, I hastened as fast as my stomached-dominated body would let me, to the wet room.

I deposited my stomached ladened, with the thin, scrawny legs and arms attached, on the raised toilet seat, and got the crossword book out… However, it was not needed. For the battle for supremacy between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad, was 1-1 draw.

A very messy affair, but the input from Trotsky, amazingly ensured that the system coped with clearing the product away, and it was a big un, with just the one flush! All neat and clean!

Then, a few seconds after taking this photo, ‘thinks began to come back up into the bowl! Blungletads!

The rear end needed a lot of cleaning and freshening, mind! Which took me a while. Not that mattered this morning. Having done the templates yesterday and with my feeling so out of sorts with the timing, I’m not used to getting up as late as this, and the body-clock got genuinely confused.

It was already gone 07:00hrs, and all I’d done was the Porcelain Throne session! I felt out-of-sorts with it all! The body must have told me I needed the extra kip, (which I did, I worked it out and think I was up for twenty-five hours yesterday, most of it struggling to get the templates done). So, Sweet Morpheus supplied it for me.

As I was getting the things ready for the Health Checks, BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) started to give me harassment. And she has stayed all day, vindictively stabbing away at me! Spurgledamnations! But, now I think about it, it was most likely due to the long hours in the recliner that had caused Brenda to kick-off?

I started with the sphygmomanometer, which gave a decentish SYS of 160. Or is it? My memory fails me. I wrote down the expected BP for someone of my age, twice in fact… But can’t where I wrote it down. Brunglebogs!

The temperature came out good again as well, at 36.4°c.

I got the kettle on, and the medications prepped, and I had a look, out of the new, thick-framed, light & view-blocking kitchen window, and it felt odd?

This was because it was so light. (I’m quick yer know, Haha!) A bit of mist and drizzle, wet roads and roofs. I remembered the smoke from last nights photos and had another look at the news to see if I could find out what had caused the fire. Nope!

I got a few more waste bags made up and put them in the box ready for taking to the rubbish chute later on.

I got the computer on and started to update the Friday blog.

It was so late a start, I was worried that my legion of fans and readers would be concerned and missing their IT (Inchcock Today). I hope both of them will be patient with me. Hehehe!

It was extremely late by the time I’d got it finished. Tsk! Sent it off to WordPress. Emailed the links, Pinterested some snaps, and did the Facebooking catching up. I went to check on the comments, there was the usual mass of them from my fans, and I answered both of them.

Went to make a brew, and found I had not put the passata away after opening it and adding some to he Chill-Con-Carne las night!  I had to dish it. Humph!

Not that it bothered me in the slightest.

I opened the ‘Your Area’ email magazine, to search for the latest Coronavirus figures available. Nottingham appeared to be slacking off at last, with only 653 new cases in the last seven-days, which sounds odd I know. But it was so much higher a fortnight ago. The Government’s England graphs were somewhat mixed in results.

I made an Iceland order up for next week. Got a slot for Tuesday 1st December, 08:00 > 10:00hrs.

Beginning to feel all airy-fairy in mind, stopped all activities to concentrate on getting the meal prepared, without making any mistakes, Whoopsiedangleplops ar Accifauxpas.

I couldn’t believe, after the longest sleep I’ve had, (last night), for years, that I felt so drained and tired already?

I made up a nosh, without burning or dropping anything (Smug-Mode-Adopted).

Ate most of it, Taste: 6/10. I stayed awake long enough to eat the yoghourt, too!

Got the TV on, and fell asleep within minutes.

And stayed like this, in the land of nod, for five-hours! I’ve gone from can’t get any sleep to, can’t stay awake within 24 hours?

But why? (Just thought I’d ask!)

Inchcock Today – Thurs 26 Nov 20: I escaped to town on L9 bus – A Mistake!

Hello, hello! What’s going on?

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Thursday 26th November 2020:

Welsh: Dydd Iau 26 Tachwedd 2020:0

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01:25hrs: As I stirred into imitation life, I spotted the untaken evening medications pot. I wondered why I’ve suddenly started to miss taking them so often, lately?

My mind was working away, alright. No thought-storming, just a gentle, unfathomable dribble of inanities, and confusion of half-worked out worries and problems – that dissipated as quickly as they arrived? Being replaced in perpetuity, with the need for a wee-wee.

 I encouraged the even greater-sized, fat-covered stomach to join the rest of the body in getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rachitic, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. Some gnawing pains and a eurgh or two, a couple of boing-boings as the body-mass settled, and I was up catching my balance – but not well enough!

My balance did not equilibrise, and I tumbled back down into the recliner with a sickening thud! I hope that the neighbours didn’t hear it!

Which promptly set off BPB (Back-Pain Brenda), PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), and Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding. Not to mention that I clouted my right elbow on the arm of the chair! I had to get back up to check the injuries over and clean up the fungal lesion.

Usually, I’d do this in the wet room, but had a tube of the Daktacort on the ottoman with the Health Check stuff. So I got on with most awkward and painful needs first—cleaning and stopping Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding, and applying the cortisone ointment.

Which, of course, was of no bother to a brave, heroic, healthy, young man like me. (Snortle!) Argh!

I used the also handily placed Phorpain gel, on the knees, and where I could reach around the folds of gross flab around the midriff, to BPB’s dwellings. A reasonably well-sized bruise was developing on the elbow.

Well, I’ve been awake for how long now? Ages! And I am still within four feet of the rickety-recliner, and still desperate for a wee-wee! Positively, not one of the best starts to a day I’ve not.

I considered having a few more words via prayer, with the Boss. But, being as my last week’s ecclesiastical discussion didn’t help any, I went for a wee-wee instead! A need for the Porcelain Throne arrived at the same time.

This session was the easiest, and least painful one I’ve had in months! Messy? Oh, yes! Due to Trotsky Terence winning the fight with Constipation Konrad, hands-down this morning! But, hey, the lack of pain and concrete torpedo removing, this was nae problem for me. I’m using up the bleach, and the once large kitchen towel stocks at a pace, mind. Hahaha! I’ve plenty of toilet paper rolls in yet, though.

I took two photographs of the morning view when I made a brew of Glengettie tea.

The moon seemed a little fuller this morning. I tried a wide shot, and it came out half-fairish with the lights.

Then I got the Health Checks done. The new thermometer colour had gone back to green, as a result, was down to an acceptable figure, I assume, 37°c.

Then the sphygmomanometerisationing. It didn’t work the first time, but okay on the next one. The SYS was still a tad high, the same as yesterday, I think.

I made a start on updating the Thursday blog and stuck with it. Dedicated, persistent, tenacious and indefatigability, like never before! But it still took me hours to get it done. Thanks to Nicodus’s Neurotransmitter relentlessly going off and coming back on-line with the brain. I admit to feeling a little smidgeon of pride when I eventually got it finished and posted-off to WordPress.

I even remembered to take the late morning medications! Swank-Mode-Grade 2 adopted!

Sent the email link off. Then did some Facebooking catching up.

I had a pot noodle for brekkers, but the photograph I took of it has done a bunk from the SD card – again! I did some comment replying on WordPress and had a look at the gallery of new stuff. Some cracking photos on there today!

I took another window view picture, zoomed in this time, on the Sherwood Health Centre area.

Then I tended to the ablutions next.

A right mixed bag of incidents, good and bad today.

The dropsies we variable and Nicodemus kept making and losing contact with the neurotransmitters. Fair enough, that’s to be expected. Most items were dropped, some several times, like the toothbrush, razors, soap and shower gel bottle.

The tiniest of cuts shaving on the lip had to be ‘after-shaved’ to stop it bleeding. Ooh! However. Showering, not a single dizzy hit me!

I couldn’t see it, but I got a reasonable picture of it all the same. That I assume to be from the plopping back down on the haemorrhoids and hitting the elbow on the recliner arm earlier?

I dropped the towel and grabbed the shower chair to lean on to lower my rotund but horrendously wobbly-fleshed body down to retrieve it… I may have got another bruise as I hit my shoulder on the metal seat support. Ah, well!

The feet and pins looked really good and almost normal. Finished drying off, got the deodorants on, and did the medicating. I was surprised at how little piles had bled, considering the strength of the wallop I gave them going back down in the seat. Mixed results then?

I did some updating of this blog.

Then took a snap of the weather outside through the balcony windows glass. Frosty on the ground, a few droplets of rain, not much wind, and the cold sun trying to come out.

This decided me, I am going out later. Only on the bus to town, and calling in the Poundland shop, to try and get some cheap disinfectant, toothpaste, pork pie, and if they have any, cheap canned garden peas. Then I can not bother to use Morrisons again!

I turned the computer turned off, dug around to find the bus pass, keys, etc. Then, I  went through the ‘Bag-of-nerves’ routine of double-checking things before leaving and set off.

Lift down to the ground floor. The upgraders were busy working on the lift and main lobby areas.

I was careful going through not to hit or fall over anything. And got the trolley through to the front doors, and exited safely out into the cold sunshine.

I hobbled along and called in Winwood Court to ask Deana if she could help with next weeks Carrington Pharmacy prescription collecting. No one in the holding cells, so I exited and went out to the bus stop on Chestnut Walk.

A few folks out there. Caught the L9 to town. This was the worst-ever bus ride to town. I’d forgotten all about the problem I had last time I went on a bus, it was that long ago, and immediately wished I’d not gone out. The battle of having to hold onto the trolley as I sat there was hard work at every hill and corner the bus took.

The driver, as he dropped of the few passengers he had, told me not to get off here, and he moved up to get close to the kerb for me to alight. That was nice of him, and I got off unhurt! Hehe!

I walked wearily down Queen Street, and Dizzy Dennis and BPB both kicked off. I decided then, I’d get to the Slab Square and walk to the Poundland Shop, try to get the fodder, and go straight back to the bus stop. I wasn’t feeling too good.

The shop did not have any of the things I wanted, apart from the milk pots and disinfectant. But of course, as is my want & bad habit, I went into a ‘buy-it-anyway’ mode. I ended up amassing Whirls, the milk pots, Dettol disinfectant, toothpaste (Yes eve more, but they were £1, Morrisons are £1.50), Toffeefees, Oxo cubes, and chip-shop gravy granules in the basket.

I must have looked worse than how I felt, cause a young lady at the self-serve tills, took one look at me and said she’d put them through for me, asking if I was alright, as I looked very ashen. Another lady inquired if I’d like her to call for an ambulance? The assistant lady put my things through for me, showing concern for my health still. I gave a can of the Gin & tonic from the trolley thanking her.

A bit unnerving that was! Fair does, I was feeling a tad rough, but I must have looked at death’s door. Still, if that’s what it takes to get some attention from females. Hahaha!

I got outside, rearranged the trolley and bag for easier handling, and made my way through Slab Square to the bus stop.

The git of a Pavement Cyclist came from behind me, I felt a draught, he came that close to me! Straight over South Parade without stopping, into the square. He was delivering food to somebody. I hope they enjoy it.

Naturally, this did not bother me at all. Oy. Oy, Oy!

As I got to the top of Queen Street, as the bus was just coming in, a couple of ladies waiting, inquired if I was poorly! This was getting worrying now! Hehe!

Another horrendously painful trip home, worse now I had the extra weight in the trolley to keep a hold of.

Getting off of the bus at the flats, was dodgy, it was a good distance from the bus to the pavement to cover. The waiting inmates at the stop, each offered an odd stare to me, but said nothing? I checked my flies, they were secure!

I hobbled to the wardens holding cell to ask about help for the prescriptions, but no one in again. Can’t be helped, I’ve almost a week to try and sort it yet. If the memory doesn’t let me down, Har-Har!

 I got back to the apartment and battled to get the trolley through the door, and new fatigue came over me. I was done in!

I unloaded the purchases, Dizzy Dennis and  Conrad Confusion took control. I proceeded to get the Chilli-Coon-Carne with baked beans, and gravy added, burning the saucepan in the process. I scraped the saucepan and left it in soak.

The meal was devoured with delight, even though I think I fell asleep eating it at one point? Conrad Confusion was taking a firmer grip on me.

Perhaps it was because I felt so weary, but the meal was only given a 7/10 (on notepad). I cant, read the rest of the scribble, so don’t know why.

Cleaned up the saucepan and pots, I must have, they were all washed and dried when I woke up later on.

I took the evening medications early and was soon in the land of nod.

Waking up still a tad confused just before midnight. Not in a confident frame of mind, and Conrad Confusion present again. And the Thought-Storms active. Flibblegonkackles!

 

Inchcockski – Wed 25 Nov 20: My memory was malevolently-masticated, with maladroitness! Mmm?

TFZer Bliss ♥

Wednesday 25th November 2020

Somalian: Arbaco 25ka Nofeembar 2020

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01:25hrs: After a good five-hours (Great!) kip, I blundered back into semi-consciousness, in need of a wee-wee. Got the stomach with its dangly legs and arms attached, out of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and meandered slowly, unhurridly, and with a new more acute vageness than I’ve had in a long time, off to the wet room. Took the reluctant weak wee-wee, checked on Little Inchies fungal lesion (No bleeding), washed the hands, and made my way to the kitchenette.

The ambiguous, ambivalent brain, at first, sort of went along with what the body was doing, uninterested. It’s the best way I can express how things were at that moment. I was not wholly under the control of my thoughts or emotions at all – ideas, views, fears were milling around now in the head, but I was losing then as quickly as they came?

By chance, at that moment when I was getting the milk out of the fridge for the Glengettie, I spotted the moon was out and on display.

Things seemed to click back together in the bonce, and enthusiasm returned.

I fetched the Nikon camera, opened the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, light & view-blocking new window, designed by some elderly people-hating gerascophobia or misogynist, and took these three efforts of the moon in the sky.

Cheered a smidgeon now, I got some potatoes out, got them in the crock-pot and added some Squid juice to them, and put them on a low setting.

I got the Health Checks done, as the Thought Storms began to come (I’d missed then overnight-Hehe!). The SYS is still a little high.

Well, well, and fancy that! The temperature was higher than it has ever been, at 37.6°c. I didn’t realise the read-out produced a changed colour when the figure was out of safe range, on the new thermometer. It has always been a shade of green since I’ve been using it, but not today. It’s gone to orange, next step red, I assume?

Something else to fret about. Just when Ann Gyna and Duodenal Donald were being in a good mood with me this morning (up to now). In fact apart from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda), who is still enjoying her sadistic ache-giving pain distributionalisationing, things ere so good. I’ll have to ask Mr Google about this… hang on a second. – Oh, well, I didn’t know that! Mr G says A 75-year-old male – 97°F (36.1°c) to 99°F (37.2°c). So, it’s not too far out, is it? Tsk!

I made another brew of tea for the one that went cold, and I got the medications pot. Oh, dear, I’d done it again! I’d not taken last nights doses! No wonder BPB is moaning! So I took the belated ones and got the morning tablets in the pot read to remember to take later on.

Naturally, I was full unequivocal confidence that I’d remember (I stuck a note over the top of the computer screen, Hehehe!) to remind me to take them. Ahem!

After a few hours of updating the Tuesday IT, I got the urge for the Porcelain Throne. So, off to the wet room. Fantabulous Session again! A 2-0 win for Trotsky Terence against Constipation Konrad. Smoothly evacuated with minimal pain, quick also too! Only the mess that needed cleaning up was any bother.

Back to the computer, and seeing the note I’d left for myself, I remembered to take the morning medications. With Trotsky winning the battle of the Throne, I was unsure if I needed to take any more of the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules or not. After some vacillating and dithering, I decided that the thought of going back to the concrete torpedoes was scarier and painful than the embarrassment of my messing my PPs. So, I took one. But was still not sure if I’d done the right thing.

Come think of it; that could be an outstanding, and suitable epitaph for me when I snuff it, “He was never sure if he’d done the right thing!”, for on the coffin, like? Yes, I like it!

I went to check on the progress of the potatoes. I’d not turned it on at the power socket. So, I did. I do feel such a fool!

I finished the updating of the blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS were both surprisingly calm with me? Bless ’em! I Pinterested some snaps. Then did the Facebook catching up. Emailed the link. And went to get some brekkers made.

A BBQ pot noodle, and the remainder of the Wholemeal Irish Soda Bread. I made some gravy to add to it, and some Squid vinegar.

It came out so nice and tasty, rich- flavoured. And I so much enjoyed it with a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. I’m getting used to this having breakfast now, as instructed by my Doctor Vindla, and the After Stroke team. I must try to eas a smaller afternoon meal, though. The Chilli-Con-Carni and or meatballs are going down well, with a little seasoning.

I went to investigate a noise I heard, from the kitchen methinks. I took the pots to wash at the same time. I could not find the cause of the clattering sound, though? I took a picture through the window. It looked eerie, and a bit like an Alpine Village?

PPs I got a call from my Gastroenterologist, asking how I went on with the pads she’d sent me to try. I was frank with her. I told her that using these pads meant wearing normal underpants, that needed pulling up so tight with the braces, that on the two occasions I tried using them, Little Inchies fungal lesson started to bleed. And the pain of treating it, due to my phimosis problem, applying the steroid cream to stop the bleeding, was too hurtful. Three times she said: “So you prefer to use the protection pants you are buying? Each time, I replied ‘No, not prefer, but have no choice, to protect myself from bleeding!’ Each mention, added; ‘We cannot supply protection pants for you!’ On my initial consultation with her, said this five times. On her last progress call, six times.

I think I’ve got it now – They cannot supply free PP’s for me. Hahaha!

It’s still a little gloomy and dark outside. I got the nosh.

I got the CCC in the pan, added some gravy and a drop of Balsamic, and Soy sauce added to the mix.

Then checked on Jenny’s email and replied to the angel, in between getting the evening meal prepped.

I’m trying to keep up with the waste bag situation. I use the old PPs box, and this makes it easier, cause I can add the tiny bags to it as I make them up. Then, when I struggle to the waste room chute, it is easier to get them from the box on the trolley-guide down the chute.

Despite my habit of trapping my fingers in the lid, having a dizzy, misjudging distances and gathering scars and the worst at times; when the malevolent, diabolical, involuntary right-leg (Tim Price from New Mexico named) Neuropathic Pete’s (Drop-what-your-holding), Schuhplattler dance bursts forth, and the leg flails about, gathering bruises and cuts, and encouraging fear and naughty language.  Doing it this way, there is no chance of any blockages in the pipe.

The nosh was served up. Note the lack of any bread? I’d ran out! My eating all the soda bread loaf in two sittings, and forgetting to either take some out of the freezer or put a part-baked roll or baguette in the oven… Well, I did actually put two small rolls in the oven… Maybe next time, it will be better to turn the oven on first.

The Chilli-Con-Carne was on my limit, hotness-wise. This should keep things moving in the Porcelain Throne area. Har-har! A 7.8/10 for flavour rating.

Shame about no bread, but to avoid further cock-ups of this nature tomorrow, I got a packet loaf of Milk Roll bread from the freezer when I did the pots.

Sleep, even this early, I needed, and it soon arrived, off into the land of Sweet Morpheus.

The landline rang and flashed, and a feeling; a sort of, “Ah, I wonder who that is?”arrived. I felt almost sure it would be the Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR Warfarin results and new dosages nurse. She hasn’t rung me for over a fortnight now.

I struggled up out of the c1968 recliner and stubbed my toe on the chair leg. I think I silently muttered something like, “Whoops!” Ahem!

It was Obersturmbannführeress Housing Patch Manager and Pole-Dancer, Angela. She has a good clear voice when not speaking too fast, so I heard most of what was said. My replies were affected by Stuttering Stephanie, but this lady knew and replaced every word I was struggling to get out, for me.  Clever gal!

She asked about how things were, gave me advice, and showed a genuine interest in my plight. Thank you, Madam!

I had a wee-wee and somehow remembered that I’d not taken the evening medications. Got the dosage pot, back to the recliner, and painfully seated on Harold’s Haemorrhoids. and the Thought Storm raged.