Inchcock Today: Saturday 2nd April 2022

02:30hrs: I burst into wakefulness with one heck of a jump. Tired as I was, I could feel the shakes coming via the Peripheral Neuropathy in the feet and toes. There was no pain with them, just an odd, weird sensation of ultra-strong tingling. That would undoubtedly be the neurotransmitter’s nerve-ends trying to get a message to the brain but failing. There is a chance that of they succeed later, the pain will then be felt then. This had happened before many times. Hahaha! I nodded and woke repeatedly; it seemed like every ten minutes to me.

Hehe! 03:35hrs: I was reluctant to get up again… but the need for a wee-wee forced me into action. I disentangled my flobby-bellied body from the second-hand, c1966 recliner! I caught my balance and wobbled over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) and got a surprise. The evacuation was short but relatively intense. What caught me out was the amount of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). I must have been standing there for some minutes, waiting for the PMAD to stop. It must have been three times the amount of that the wee-weeing passed? With the gentle encouragement, I was giving to urge things along. Unfortunately, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion started bleeding! You didn’t need to know that did you? Sorry!

Made a Brew of Glengettie, had another PMAD ridden wee-wee, washed and got on the computer. I found this shot of last night’s incredible short sunset. I tried to load the photos, and the reader let me!

Then, I went onto the WordPress comments section. Next, the WP Reader, not many new posts on?

05:15hrs: Off to the wet room. What a magical, smooth, almost pain-free, clean evacuation that was! I’ve not had such a pleasant movement for months! Grrreat! It may sound an odd thing to say, but it was a genuine relief and pleasure!

Celebrated with another mug of tea and went back to the computer. To update, post the Friday blog, which didn’t take long with no photos to use. Grumph! But a least I got a few on of today. Phew!

Made a start on this blog. Had to stop due to Dementia Doreen and me, forgetting we’d not done the health Checks – So we did them!

Started with the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Try saying that when you’ve had a few! Hahaha! Even closer to the target figure of 35°c this time, Good!

Then the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, which was made by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China.

This one was not such a good result; the blood pressure was a smidge high again. Well, a fair bit high, really, methinks.

The Pulse at 77 bpm wasn’t bad at all.

The site said mine should be 74 to 102 beats per minute, which was a good result.

Herbert kept me aware of his presence throughout the morning. I suppose the odd thud, clunk and tap-tapping, so I don’t get bored. Hehe! His better points are his being standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, and ignoring greetings when one says, Hello, or are you keeping well?

I took a shot of red-van-man’s parking on Chestnut Way, broom the balcony. Brr! I took it through the glass, as it was pretty nippy out there now.

I made a start on this blog, and within minutes the Morrison Delivery arrived. Left the parcels in the doorway for me, and off they trotted.

As I was about to take the parcels through to the kitchenette…

The morning carer arrived, the first time she’s been to do me. She helped me move the packages into the kitchen. A professional carer. Name of Ann, or Anne. She got the medicines’ doses sorted correctly, and although she was just starting her shift (I asked), Anne gave me a couple of minutes to chinwag. ♥.

I got the barfs opened and sorted out the many items I’d purchased. Two things were unavailable, the text message said, but I didn’t know what they were. Found out later it was drink treats and cakes, so no bother over that, then.

The Lacto-free whole milk, jelly and custard pots and mini ice-cream suckers were put away in the fridge and freezer. Note that they delivered some potatoes and leek stew packs – they will be consumed this evening, I hopeth. I cut up some more potatoes to be added then to the leeks. A drop of soy, Worcester sauce and some Bisto. I’m planning to add a can of peas later on. The bottled mineral water, orange jellies, liquid soap, bleach, crispy fried onions, and Germolene were put away. As for the tomatoes, they were found to be Spanish, so I’m not too hopeful about putting them in the leek and potatoes… they are bound to taste bitter. Then I took the waste from the delivery and prepping out to the rubbish shute in the lift lobby. No injuries to report!

Got back on with updating this blog, and Sister Jane rang me. We had a good chinwag, which I enjoyed muchly. Then I got the pots and leeks with seasoning into the large pan.

Back on the computer to work on this blog. Oh, I am good! Well, pretty fair… not too bad. Crap really!

Cleaned the kitchenette surfaces, and made a mug of Co-op 99 tea.

I looked up at the wonderfully fresh-looking clouds in the sky. And had a few minutes of pareidoliaing. I saw an animal head in the first shot, I forgot what I saw in the second, Tsk! And two animals in the third photographicalisation.

I can only find the top one at the moment, though.

An hour or so later, I checked on the potato & leeks concoction. Had a taste, and thought it was coming along nicely. Still got to add the peas later, and am doubtful about putting the Spanish tomatoes in… Ah, I’ll go and have a taste of one, then I’ll know if they are worth the bother tastewise. Back in a bit…

I’m back. They’ll do. I added the peas and sliced some tomatoes into the mix.

SD Reader not working again. But Herbert was, clank, thud, tap-tap, thud.

The evening carer arrived, I’d just fallen asleep watching some rubbish on the TV. There is a film on later, the odds of my staying awake are minimal. (I hope). A good job she came, cause I’d left the leek and potatoes on the heat, cooking.

Tablets, injections, and medicines were soon sorted. No treat accepted, and off the Carer went, taking the black bag to the chute for me, bless her.

Got the nosh sorted and consumed. Took a photo of the evening sunset such as it was. Can’t get them on the system yet, I’ll try again in the morning.

TTFN.

Inchcock Today: Monday 28th March 2022

MONDAY 28th MARCH 2022

In Brief & Ode

Problems a few, well, really quite a load…
Accifauxpas, bleeding, no real Smug-Mode…
Noisy Herbert, getting on my goad…
Memory blanks, mistakes made? A shitload!
I had to look up my own postcode!
The Thought-Storms constantly flowed…
Wee-weeing? The bucket nearly overflowed!
Stabbed myself with a toothbrush up my nose,
Will it get worse, discommode? Nobody knows…
What evils and stupidity Satan may bestow?
I’ll have a mug of tea and a marshmallow!

Haveth a great day!

05:30hrs, the usual jumping awake, with a verbal “Uhrge!” arrived. I pondered a few seconds to check on the time, day and need to activate the brain to join the body into some form of starting.

My hazy and befuddled brain sorted itself out in a fashion, and I decided to get the sphygmomanometerisationing done first thing. The grey plastic was half-filled before I started this slash. By the time I’d escaped the c1966 recliner, the need for a wee-wee had developed. And the urine flowed and splashed at a rate and pace never known before! How I held onto the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), I don’t know. But obviously, I had been wee-weeing throughout the night.

I still can’t work out how someone in my condition can free themselves from the recliner, take the few paces to the bucket, pass water (ferociously!) and get back down again… even once, and yet, not know he’s done it; when he wakes up? Someone must understand this. A psychologist or somebody? Which followed nearly every one of the wee-wees that followed today, and there were dozens of them! No wonder I can feel the dampness in the protection pants of the damned PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).

There was much handling of things in washing and cleaning; poor Little Inchies’ fungal lesion started bleeding again later on. Humph!

I finally got around to taking the Blood Pressure. A fine set of figures they were too! SIA 144, DIA 48 and Pulse at 72… No, hang on. The DIA’s a good bit low… I’ll check it out.

No, that’s not too bad, only just in the red area anyway. For some reason, the low DIA brought it up overall a smidgeon. I’ve had it a lot worse than that. Last week one day, it was Sys 171, so I’m not fretting.

I used my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. The result was a bit higher this time, almost on the target figure of 35!

All went well, apart from the teeth cleaning, which was bloody. Thanks to ailment number eleven, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. As it did two days ago when she made me drop the mug of Glengettie, her timing was cruelly well-timed. I was about to put the brush in my mouth, and she struck! Despite it being the brush end than entered my nasal channel, it was so fierce that it brought blood. However, it could have been worse, and I soon dried it up. A bit sore now, though, Hehehe!

I started updating yesterday’s blog, and Carer Richard arrived. The poor lad didn’t look too good; he was obviously weary, worn out, tired at the end of his shift. I brought him around a smidgeon with some nattering and a laugh or two, as much as was possible. I think his blood count was low. He said on leaving, he’s going to take his own medicines and get his head down as soon as he gets home. He still had a chinwag, though; I appreciated that from the man. Bade him good luck and health as he left, taking the taste bags with him for me to the chute.

I then spent hours trying to get the Card Reader to work to get the photos on the computer. I was at the limit of my patience and know-how of what else I could try… and wallah! The card suddenly returned to working mode? Although there have been odd, weird times when it tells me the reader is not recognised. So frustrating, I lost hours on the day messing about, turning everything off and back on, the card in and out of the slot… swearing, and at one point, I almost cried!

Eventually, I got the blog finished and posted it off to WordPress. Thank heavens for that!

Time for a mug of Glengettie!

I took these photographs of the view from the kitchenette window. The first one to the left (South), the second down almost straight ahead (East), finally one to the right (North)

I pressed on with starting this blog going. It was concentrating mind…

My sociable, kind, understanding, compassionate, snotty-nosed neighbour above started his clunking, banging noises with some venom. I think he’s realised he was not so bad yesterday and is making up for it?

I stopped to make a brew of Glengettie, wrapping the tea bag up and placing it in the small waste bag; this is what I saw (on the right here). My initial reaction was… Argh! Another Boll Weevil! Oh dearie me! Out came the sprays, and the kitchen got a good covering in all corners and every hidey-hole or corner that I could get at!

I got what I thought was the offending animal out of the bag – but I could not see if it was a weevil or something else, thanks to Cataracts Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra.

Well, well, well! Another cock-up made yesterday, discovered! Tsk! I looked at the watch, then the clock. A difference in time showing? I’d forgotten to put the clock forwards with all the others, but a true Masterstroke-Whoopsiedangleplop with the new square, easier-to-see wristwatch! I’d put that backwards instead of forwards!!! Humph! It took me a while to work out what time it was now! So, I now have no idea when I got up this morning.

The sky turned into a bright blue; I’m glad I caught it with the Canon cause minutes later, it had turned back into a bright pale blue shade. It turned out to be a decent effort, I thought for once.

I took a photograph of the Chestnut Way end car park. It appears that the Red Van Man has not used his vehicle since yesterday. Hope he’s not poorly. Time to get some fodder organised.

The evening carer arrived and soon had the medicationalisationing sorted out. Took the waste bag with her to the chute for me on her way out.

I took an easy option tonight. Cooked some mushrooms with balsamic vinegar, squid sauce and chillies powder. (Not as ad as it sounds as it turned out, Hehe!) I sliced some lovely yellow tomatoes and forced myself to cut up some of the sickeningly bitter, foul-tasting Moroccan red tomatoes. Added the last of the ‘Batter bits’, a small apple and a banana. A Lemon and Lime M&S yoghourt that needed a mortgage to buy. And tucked into the feast… Oh, and of course, with the two hot dogs with BBQ sauce added. Flavour rating 7.2/10.

I went to Washed the pots, then me, Putting the trousers back on afterwards by mistake for the jammie bottoms! Tsk! Then settled to watch my favourite TV show, ‘Heartbeat’.

I couldn’t enjoy the programme properly, cause Colin Cramps visited my left hand and fingers. Never known him to be so painful and persistent!

Unbelievably, Colin Cramps stopped tormenting me the very moment that the end credits rolled for ‘Heartbeat’. Ah, well!

I rose for a wee-wee, and boy, had I taken some over the day! On the bright side, Little Inchies lesion was not bleeding. Check the taps (faucets) and electrics, and I got down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner.

The Thought-Storms kicked off straight away. They dragged things from over sixty-plus years ago; my errors, bad choices, failures… on and on, they kept coming! Some I had actually forgotten about altogether… they had to be mused over. I’ve no idea why; it only made me more depressed.

Out of desperation for sleep and to escape the storming, I turned the TV back on. Which worked… but at the same time, Colin Cramps attacked again in the same hand!

I think it was gone midnight again before I managed to nod off. Well, that’s not exactly right. I realised I’d not taken the Hemp capsule again! I nodded off many times, but only for a minute, then I’d shoot awake again.

At least the Thought Storms had given up on me, only to be replaced with Self-Hating-Harvey. I suppose that Dementia Doreen is at the route of things…

Inchcock Today: A Dream Remembered

Inchcock’s Tuesday Diary & Dream Recollections

I woke around 04:20hrs: With some memories of the dream still prattling about in the brain. I lunged to get the notepad and pencil from the Ottoman; and realised they were lying between my legs, and well scribbled on, too! (Somnambulistic activity?) So I added the new bits to it and left the pages to be used later in my reminiscing of the ultra-weird dream.

Off into the kitchen, no taps, stove or lights had been left on. More amazingly, Shaking Shaun was not affecting the legs again! That’s been around eighteen hours of relief, now!

I took a photo of the clear dark morning sky. And decided not to make a brew of Glengettie, 99, or even the usual refreshing Thompsons Punjana tea; this bothered me!

Something was out of sync here this morning… most likely me! Summat up here! No shaking legs, no toothache, no desire for a mug of tea, not wanting a wee-wee…

However, I maintained my earlier om waking, almost gung-ho, hey-ho outlook, and just pressed on with updating the Facebook, catching up a bit with it anyway. I was humming the door chimes’ tune to myself, not in need of a cuppa, and as I thought I was also not in need of a wee-wee… the flow started. And continued approximately every fifteen minutes and was only taking the occasional swift swig of the spring water?

As I indicated earlier, things seem discrepant, incompatible, and incongruous today. Yet I am not put out by this… at the moment.

Working on Facebook, I came across last nights photograph of my meal. This brought back to me how tasty it was for once. Fresh garden raw peas from Nicaragua, tomatoes from Holland, sausages from Poland, chips from England, and part-baked oven cobs from Ireland. American BBQ sauce. An international feast! That I gave a Taste-Rating of 8.2/10!

I went on the WordPress reader, had a wee-wee, answered some comments, took a pee, readied this blog, had a slash, and the door chime chimed out its ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune. It was the morning Carer came to sort out my medications. No messing with this gal, all done nada off in eight minutes, kindly taking the waste bags to the chute for me as she departed.

Minutes later, the ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune chirped up again. This was the Sainsbury’s order arriving. Boy, had I ordered a lot or what? I’d got some cheapo eggs in. Ten for £1.10.

After taking in the items, I managed to get the chuckles into the fridge; first, there was only enough room, and I had to do a bit of jiggling around to get them into the fridge door.

They were mixed in sizes from diddly to small. Hehe! Not that it mattered to me. They were all a lovely deep brown colour.

I knew there was not much room in the freezer, so I only ordered some McCain flavour maker fries. Although I somehow managed to buy three packets of them… £9 spent there!

The first load of fresh stuff into the fridge were, Fresh peas and a milk roll loaf. Humph! Another cock up made, I’d obviously ordered three bags of potatoes, all of a different type.

Ready meal foods next. Five of the prepared meals; four Sausage in onion grainy and sweet potato mash, and one chilli and chips, all watchers, WW! Three packets of cooked bacon. (Guilty!)

Then the costly, naughty, wicked, and guilt-ridden things were put away. Oh, dearie me, yes! Three Lemon Cheesecakes. Mandarin pieces in orange jelly and two fresh cream eclairs… no, that should be doughnuts. Ahem! A substituted for lemon yoghourts. Lemon & Lime Possets. (Ahem!) I’ve never heard of these before, but on reading the ingredients: Double cream, whipping cream, lemon juice, lime juice, sugar, lemon zest, thickener, agar and cornflour – I realised how bad it was, and decided not to eat it, naturally.

I took the rubbish bags accrued by storing the fodder away to the rubbish chute room. Then it happened… The shaking and wobbling started again en route with the bags. Luckily I’d taken the stick with me; thus, I avoided having an Accifauxpa and tumble!

I can’t say the same thing for inside the chute room. Tsk! Nowt too lousy mind, just a trapped finger and back-Pain Brenda kicked off after I knocked the stick over and bent down to retrieve it. I’ve had a lot worse.

I got back in the flat and decided that if things were getting back to normal with the ailments, I’d take an extra painkiller now, have another wee-wee, and get the kitchen floor cleaned while I was still capable. So, I did!

BPB was not too happy with me, but she could have been a lot worse. Arthur Itis was almost nonexistent as I treadmilled mop bucket spinner. I did manage a toe-stubbing in the process, but only a mild effort, so I pressed on with the job, even humming a tune to myself?

Until I emptied the bucket down the lavatory; I gave myself a really good toe-stubbing then! It made me wince a little, and I just may have used a naughty word or two… perhaps, maybe.

That was bad enough, but then I dropped the bucket and got covered in the sweet smell of lemon disinfectanted but dirty water! I hit my knee with the mop stay and generally sank down from my previously almost cheerful state to a genuinely pissed-off with myself semi-depressed!

I was even angry with myself! I may well have growled and questioned my parentage! I’d gone from being practically flippant and almost uncaring, not concerned, to a deep depression instantly! My world had been turned on its head. I knew it had to happen! Back to the lucky bugger I am, that things being almost semi-content, just couldn’t last, and I knew it. Thinking this actually helped me to perk back up a smidgeon.

Go me and the place cleaned up, had a wee-wee, and got on the computer to start this blog. After five minutes, I was back at the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with a lot of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). That needed shaking and wiping – and…

The door chime chimed again; I had to pack things away swiftly, as I saw a shadow had let itself in along the corridor, and I did not want to make whoever it was to laugh by displaying Little Inchy.

Esther, the cleaning lady, came in. Unfortunately, in my rush and haste to get Little Inchy undercover, his Fungal Lesion started bleeding! I couldn’t just leave her and get it medicated, but I don’t think she noticed anything she shouldn’t have. So, I had to grin and bear it.

The gal got straight on with gathering and taking the laundry for me. Esther returned after I’d cleaned and medicated Little Inchies problem. Now I had a little more pain to put up with!

But I coped well enough, back to the usual style of semi-coping and mild agony. Haha!

When Esther returned, I got the new ironing board unwrapped, and the gal got using it quickly. I was amazed at how fast she was doing the ironing for the first time on the new board.

She hung up the clothes in the hallway for me; bless her! After that, I got the chair covers back on and started to feel more my usual self.

Laundry down for me; bless her. A lot of what she said, a little too fast for me, and when I asked her what she said, the volume was too high, and her speed was the same. I hope I’ve not missed anything that was important? I thanked her, and she shot off. She’s a kind thing. ♥

So, I decided to get a mug of tea at last; as I stood up, shoeless, I trod on something hard, sharp and tiny. Can you believe it… I can, Hehehe! It was yet another escaped, dried like granite garden pea! How the heck do I not see or find them earlier? I’ve hoovered the carpet near the computer several times last and once this, and still, it gets missed! It must have been fled weeks ago, to be that hard? Ah, well!

It’s getting dark earlier than ever today. Took a snap of the end car park.

Then back to working on this blog. In between going for a leak, of course. Then fatigue dawned on me, so I stopped to get some nosh sorted.

As I was prepping the fodder, surprisingly, suddenly everything seemed to light up. The sun was having one last attempt at coming through, and I got the camera to snap it. Not a good effort, but still.

Sausages with a drop of onion gravy, carrot and leek potatoes, coiled potatoes finished off in the oven, fresh Nicaraguan garden peas, and a Lemon & Lime posset pot. Not as good as last night’s, but a score of 7/10 for flavour was given.

Washed the pots and back to the chair to eat the posset… Zzzz! Off into a deep sleep, I trundled and had the dream, as I had mentioned earlier…

.

I was in a shopping centre or big market. As I went along, it dawned on me that the three-wheel walker was behind me, and I was pushing a shopping cart ahead; I turned to look for a supermarket where I assumed I had taken the shopping trolley; from… Then noticed that the three-wheeler was following behind, under its own steam? Then as we came to an escalator, I hesitated, and other shoppers were getting annoyed, asking me what the problem was.

I said I can’t get on the escalator with two trolleys… and I got the oddest of looks, and people laughed at me. One woman asked if I’d escaped from somewhere?

“What’s its name?”

“Who’s?”

“The trolley you pillock!” “Tsk! are you poorly or what?”

“I call it my walker?” With which she snapped her fingers and commanded, “Walker… Fly! I thought, even in the dream, something’s not right here? But the three-wheeler raised up like a Darlek in Dr Who and flew gently down to the bottom of the escalator!!! Wait for me at the bottom!”

When I followed the others down, I realised that there were no moving steps, just a controlled cushion of air, that we were using?

And I could see down on the floor below, trolleys of all sorts waiting for their owners and running to their side when they got down. And mine did the same? seeing other folks sending the trolleys to get things from the shops, I tried it… “Walker, Boots, get a large tube of Germolene!” And of he waddled off to the Boots store…

A ganglet of young ladies surrounded me, asking for my signature, and would I sing them a song? Like pricking a bubble, instantly they were all gone?

I sat on a bench, trying to make sense of all this…

I was woken up by Carer Lisa. I didn’t mention the dream.

Lisa did the medications, and she shot off; she was busy tonight.

I got the computer back on and updated this blog.

It’s been an odd day… again!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Series

 

Inchcock Today – Sat 31 Oct 20: It’s my morosophy that keeps me going, yer know!

The TFZer Show! With the JGJ Trio ♥

Saturday 31st October 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 31ain Hydref 2020

00:00hrs: There was no clinomania when I stirred into imitation life at midnight.

For semi-refreshed after four hours + of Sweet Morpheus, I was raring to go; but first I had to go for a wee-wee. So, off to the wet-room.

At this point, I’d like to explain that the wee-weeing got really out of hand today. So if you imagine I’d been nipping off for a leak every half-hour or so, you’ll be pretty accurate. Gotten Himmel! So to save time writing, let’s agree to accept this estimate, please. Thank you.  Pickleglobknobs, it nearly drove me around the bend!

I had a good wash and did a bit of medicationalisationing (Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had been leaking a little). Then had a go at the Health Checks. I got the equipment out and used both of the thermometers to see what the difference would be this morning.

As anticipated, the Amazon forehead one was lower again. The one that Matron Jackie mended and showed me how to use it properly is the one I trust. At 35.6°c, I was well pleased with it. The Boots BP sphygmomanometer gave another high reading for the SYS. Why? I’ve had the BP taken this week three times on different days, by nurses, and every time it shows up as around 144? Even when Matron Jackie did it in the flat, she got only 145! Gerumph!

Took the medications, guzzled lots of the pathetically-inefficient, weak, substandard, ineffective, not-up-top-the job, Peptac. I rubbed in some Phorpain gel on my hands, ankles (although reaching the ankles is getting a more challenging job lately, Tsk) and knees.

I checked the done-wrung and hung washing from yesterday, and moved both of the zip-up jumpers over the kitchen heater on the curtain rail, to dry betterer. I checked first that there was no chance of any drips to fall on the electrics, so it’s safe.

Then I set about computerisationing. But this blast of concentrating was a marathon session, three hours or more. I was starting with the photographs from yesterday getting sorted. I’d got a headache by the time the pictures were all sorted, and got in the WordPress gallery.

  I went to make a brew of Glengettie to freshen myself up, and then had a bag of Frazzles with it. (By gum, I live the life of Riley!) Utter luxury!

Well, maybe not!

The first summing to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and what a painful experience it was! Admittedly it was over quicker than of late, but this level of discomfort caused me to regret not taken extra last night to make up those capsules I’d missed through being out and about for so long. Grunglebogknickers!

Back on the computer, and guess what? Yes! Mr $19m a year plus expenses earner, boss of Liberty-Global who owns Virgin Internet Media, must be laughing and cackling when he finds out! How does he keep his job? Mind you; I bet it’s what he knows of others failings and weaknesses, and the Mafia, who keep the incapable sod going in a job.

Just a couple of thoughts, I’ve got nothing against the crud-nut whatsoever… apart from jealousy! Hehehe!

I checked the email when Fries farce of an internet service came back on. Just as a phone came in, it was Sister Jane and Pete, telling me they had taken some photographs of Deana from the BBC1 news, and sen them via email. Bless ’em!

I went to make a brew of Extra Strone Black Assam tea, notices that the rain was pelting down and the wind was getting so strong now. The sun came out later. I had to look to see if a rainbow had appeared, but could not see any.

Plus maybe, an: I found time to upload the photographs from the email Pete had sent. Six in total. I sent them directly to CorelPhotopaint – Whatta-mistaka-To-Maker! Panic set in, when first, CorelDraw froze and would do nothing at all, the Computer sent me messages I didn’t understand, then the dreaded blue screen came up! I lost everything I was doing and had not saved, plus wasn’t sure I could retrieve the situation!

Everything was turned of, a few minutes later, I switched it all back on, and with Duodenal Donald starting to kick-off, through the worry and panic I imagine. Very slowly, CorelDraw started to let me do things, move things, something in the background was working, what I knew not; I was just glad it was!

The one photo I’d managed to download on Photopaint was examined. I found that the actual size of the photo’s width was 84 inches! The file size when I was in Gigabytes! No wonder the computer was struggling. I’ll have a look at the news site later, to see if I can get some photos there. I was so glad the computer was still working, slow yet mind, but operational. Phew! I rang Pete. I’d got a question to ask him anyway. Glad to report that he was feeling a little better in himself today, and Jane was coping with her one eye is better than none approach to her problems. We are a sickly bunch! Hahaha!

I pressed on and got the blog sent off eventually, but it was after six hours more work on it this morning, nearly afternoon already now!

Gawd, I’m such a lucky bugger!.

I then had a look at the Your Area (postcode) E-newsletter, to get updates on the Coronavirus and hopefully find some photos of Winwood Heights.No luck with Winwood pictures. Ther only things I could find about Nottingham Coronavirus figure on the right here.

I went to check on the meal, well, mushrooms and potatoes cooking. 

The mushrooms have a lot of balsamic vinegar in the water, nothing else, but last time I tried this, they were very bland.

The weather had snapped back to the sun shining! The wind remains high and noisy, mind you.

I went onto Facebooking catch-up. It took me ages and ages, and a long time, too!

So tired now, well gone my usual head-down time, but the fodder needs preparing, so off to the kitchen I poddled to do so.

Flavour rating: 6.2/10. Not one of my best efforts, but I was feeling drained, strained, featherbrained and mentally restrained.

Waited for the new Coronavirus lock-down rules from the Rhyme Minister, but I fell asleep.

Inchcock – Frid 30 Oct 20: Early start, hectic day, but got my head down earlier than usual. (Bliss!)

The TFZer Show – Tickets from $600

Friday 30th October 2020

Scots Gaelic: Dihaoine 30 Dàmhair 2020

01:00hrs: Got up, wee-wee, wash, cuppa tea, Throne (Messy, but quick and mot so painful)

Thought: Appointments today: City Cardiac, then CDH Checks, then Flu-Jab. Must get the computing done as early as possible.

Got the Health Checks done. Bottled the urine samples ready for the hospital and doctors.

Computerised, template created, photos downloaded and prepped for publication.

Got the Thursday blogs finished and posted off.

Pinterested, Emai link sent, Facebooking updated.

WP and Facebook Comments read and answered.

WordPress reader section visited.

SisterJane rang. Pete was feeling a little better, thank heavens. Anf, Jane’s eye still had no vision. We are a set!

She’d seen my Warden Deana on the BBC 1 News and told me to put it on, so I could take some photos of it. It will come on again. We had a natter and laugh, and that was great!

But with the Doctors, Hospital things to sort out, and trying to get some blogging done, I couldn’t really concentrate.

No time to do owt on this blog at all. And needed to get the ablutions done, then get the things needed to take with me sorted out.

Got the first sample, and it was coloured like level 5-6. Which was much better now, got it in the three-wheeler walker guide bag, so as not to forget it!

The ablutions were done next. The mind was confused with so much detail to go through. The Ablutionalisationing is almost a blur, so much did I rush, and with my mind on so many things at the same time.

Jane rang back, and they will try to get some photos if Deana comes back on the BBC, for me. Bless em! That was good of them. I hope she can get some.

I found a letter on the floor near the door, only Sainsbury offering money off vouchers, but only if I spend £60! Oh, Goodie! Makes a change from crushed cakes and lousy silly substitutes, I suppose.

I got some breakfast. Marmite bread thins, potatoes from last night, and Frazzles with a mug of Glengettie tea! And most enjoyable it was too! As my Dad used to say: “It went down a reet treat, that did!”

I got some hand washing done, wrung and hung. Only one Zip-up jacket, and left it drip-dry at its leisure, on a coathanger above the kitchen sink.

I tried to get my head together and make sure I’d got everything needed for the medicalisational visits. Then the bus-pass, keys, cash, etcetera.

I didn’t feel too confident, and had a nagging feeling that I’d forgotten something or other! Which I suppose would not be anything new. Hehe!

I got the trolley, with the nibble-treats for the Hospital and Surgery staff, and set out, feeling apprehensive, and not knowing why I felt that way.

I turned and figuratively, waved farewell to the flats at the end of the road.

The hobble down Winchester Street was a hard, nervous-making experience. I’d forgot about the brakes being useless on the three-wheeler, and had to take my time and extra care not to topple it over. I stayed on the right-hand side pavement going down, to avoid having to walk in the road again to get by, for I had spotted a lorry in the distance parked on the pavement, Swine!

Not that the men had any alternative, really than to park there, they were in a sort of, mission impossible situation.

I walked up the Mansfield Road hill and stopped to check on the timing.

I was in plenty of time to get to the first appointment without any rushing. I had an hour before I needed to be there, so took my time and tried to take in the scenery, even though it was a bit bleak at times.

Near the hospital, on the ring road, a Pavement Motorist was spotted, for a change.

I crossed over at the Pelican lights and was soon entering the DVT Antigoagulation Unit. Where I registered and was taken straight into the treatment room.

(Well, they probably considered me an important, powerful, dynamic, wealthy patient, who was due the best care and not to be kept waiting… A Smug-Mode of ginormous proportions came over me) Hehehe!

I was soon on and attached to the machine, and within minutes, while the Q&A session was done, I was on my way out again! No obvious problems they said, an analysed result report will be sent to me. I thanked them and handed over some plonk in thanks.

I caught the bus, intending to stay on it into Carrington, and the Doctor’s surgery. Good planning, or what? On the way out, I walked to the Stroke Ward I was in, to leave them some nibbles and treats in thanks.

But, they were that busy. I decided it was best not to intrude. called to. From what I saw, they had just had a new patient come in.

 : The bus arrived within minutes of my getting to the bus stop (It’s going too well, I thought – Little knowing what lie ahead!) I got on the bus and decided to have a ferret around in the bag, to check that I’d got everything needed for the surgery visit. Concentrating on this, as the bus neared the stop I’d usually get off at in Sherwood, I panicked thinking I would miss the stop, rang the bell, and the driver waited patiently for me to struggle and get off? Bless him!

When got on the pavement is when it dawned on me… I’d got off at the wrong stop!   ‘Whatta a Plonka!’ Oy, oy, oy! I decided, as there was still bags of time available for me, I’d walk into Carrington, maybe even go in Lidl to see what they had on offer. It was very leisurely, and I was not too annoyed with myself – I’ve come to almost expect such calamities nowadays. Tsk!

I set of at a steady-hobble, no need to overdo it, still bags of time to get there punctually. Sherwood looked so barren this morning, with more retailers than ever closed down again, it’s so sad. All those people with their dreams shattered! Humph!

I’d not gone far, and Pavement Cyclist came from behind me, I smelt his B.O. as he passed me by. It’s not as if there was a lot of traffic for him to be scared off, on the Mansfield Road. I noticed he had the bike in the lowest gear, his legs were going like the clappers, but he was not getting anywhere fast. (A Sherlock Holmisianism moment, there) Hehehe!

I crossed over to the other side at the Pelican lights, over the hill and down int Carrington towards the church. It was still looking glum.

A bit further down the hill, and another Pavement Cyclist appeared. This one was more determined to ignore or injure any pedestrians than the previous one, and really did come close to hitting me, and the ladies further on. Git!

There was still time to spare, so I visited the Lidl store. Got some bits, and paid on the self-serve tills, no idea what I was doing wrong, but an assistant came to me on each of five times I did something wrong, and muttered something to me, and put it right. I didn’t realise I’d bought so much stuff, and had to stop on my way out, and rearrange things in the trolley, and make up another bag to hang on the handlebars. This took me a while to do, and I realised

I had to get a nip on to get to the surgery in time for the appointment, so I did!

I hastened to the surgery; thus, I was in a bit of a state when I arrived. They have now got an intercom system for us to use, which is not good when because of the mask-wearing, I can’t use the hearing aids when out and about. I’ve no idea what the lady was saying, but she let me in eventually. She thought I looked poorly and told me to take a seat, one of the only two seats now, in the waiting room. It was the late rushing to get there that had caused my laboured breathing. 

I was soon being called into the treatment room by the new surgery nurse. A most pleasant blood pressure, temperature, pulse, weighing, measuring, recording, and questions and answer session took place. During which, Doctor Vindla came in and gave me my Flue-Jab. Lovely to see them all again. I was leaving and Nurse… (Oh, dear, the phlebotomy nurse, I’ve not seen her for that long, I’m, ashamed to say I’ve forgotten her name. lovely lady too! Caroline was it? I bet Tim Price will remember for me?), came to chat for a few seconds. I handed the giant bottle of Perry for them all to share at Christmas, and sadly, I had to leave, by the front door now, as part of the Anti-Corona rules. Ah, Gorrit, I think, it was Nurse Nichole! ♥

I was weary but happy enough as I wobbled along Mansfield Road with the trolley, up and over the hill. (Travailing with the well-filled heavy trolley, which will be fun getting onto and off of the bus when I get to Sherwood, Tsk!)

As I was getting to Spondon Street, another ignorant, nasty, anti-social, objectional, offensive, law-breaking, seditious, thoughtless, inconsiderate, mannerless, yob, scumbag of a Pavement Cyclist belted by me, making my jump, he was so close! Grrr!

But it didn’t bother me.

But, as I went up the hill to the bus stop, another ignorant, nasty, anti-social, objectional, offensive, law-breaking, seditious, thoughtless, inconsiderate, mannerless, yob, scumbag of a loutish young Pavement Cyclist, was doing wheelies on the wide pavement?!?! I had to go around him to get into the Wilko store for my bleach! Grobleknackerbangles!

I paid and heaved my body and trolley up to the bus stop. The distant skies did not bode well at all. Incidentally, while I was waiting for the bus, three cars went through the traffic lights on red. Tsk! I suppose they know that those traffic-light cameras do not have any film in them?

I took a photo to the left, down the hill before the number 40 bus arrived. The driver getting a smidge annoyed as I struggled to get on the bus, and then to get sat down where I could hold onto the trolley. But it couldn’t be helped. Sorry, driver!

I was son back up Winchester Street and alighting the bus. Two residents to get off, I went first, and I’d like to mention that I did so without any Accifauxpas, injury or damage! And, I assisted the chap from my block behind me, to alight the bus with his trolley. Mega-Smug-Mode-Adopted!

We walked to the end of the road and got inside the Woodthorpe lobby and to the lifts. I got in and invited the chap to join me, which he appreciated, he looked as done-in as I felt, bless him. He had to get out, to let me out of the lift, I didn’t realise he loved on the 4th floor. Still, we managed a laugh about it. I fumbled about getting the trolley in, with its extra weight and bags, and into the corner.

I soon realised that my original plans to get the updating done of this diary were not going to happen. I was jiggered, exhausted in body and mind! My new plan; was to get something to eat, wash, and head-down, even though it was still early, even for me to seek sleep.

As I got into the kitchen with the purchases from Lidl and Wilko, I spotted what looked like a fire in the far distance.

I got the camera from my jacket pocket and took this picture. Then got the bags opened and sorted the things needed for the meal I’d planned on the bus, earlier. The Potato Rosti was a must-have, even though I left some new pots cooking in the crock-pot. I could taste it before I’d got it in the oven. Took some grapes, an apple, tomatoes and washed them, for slipping on the plate.

I made the feast up and got it served n the tray. But made far too much for me, in my tired state of health; however, the potato rostis, grapes, some of the tomatoes and potatoes were eaten. A Taste-Rating of 7/10 given, it was just me being so tired.

I was happily amidst feasting, and the door-chimes rang out. I put the food tray on the chair, and fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, and off to investigate who my caller was.

Aha! My visitor had been my patron saint Jenny, from the 8th floor. Who had kindly left me some yellow tomatoes, a big bag too! She does look after me! ♥

Then I got settled back in the c1968 recliner, it was nippy in here tonight, so I used a heavier quilt. Put theTV on, but I didn’t need the TV, or anything of a somnifacient nature, for the Sweet Morpheus, enwrapped herself around my body and brain within a few minutes – and it was good! I believe I was dreaming of being asleep in my sleep?

I put the tom’s in the fridge, and got my ponderously pot-bellied, portly-paunch placed back onto the recliner; grabbed the tray of food, got my legs up on the chair, and was just about to restart noshing it, and the Landline burst forth and flashed!

So, I put the food tray on the chair, and fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, got the stick, and off to answer the phone.

It was my Alma Mater, Jenny. She told me of how she managed to get some yellow tomatoes for me again, and we had a chinwag with laughs for a while. I was a smidge out-out-it and didn’t write down what else was talked about, so I must find out if anything was arranged or agreed upon tomorrow. We bade each other a fond-farewells, and I think (hope) I thanked her again for the tomatoes ♥.

I returned to the rickety recliner, to have another go at eating the meal. But couldn’t each much more, and was back to wide-awake mode. However, what I did eat was more than enough for what I needed, so is a blessing in disguise, and stopped me gobbling too much. Hahaha!

I washed the pots and took a snap of the threatening skies.

Took the evening medications, cause I forgot earlier with flailing so early.

I realised that my being out and about so long, I’d missed taking two of the Dioctyl® stool softeners. Uncertain whether to take three now or just the one, I veered on the safe side, and just took the one. (A choice that I much-regretted in the mornings’ Porcelain Throne session – Rock-solid again, Argh!)

Inchcock Today – Thursday 29th October 2020: A surprise late visit from the Matron – that cheered me up, girded my loins!

TFZers Supporting Elvis! ♥

Thursday 29th October 2020

Galician: Xoves 29 de Outubro de 2020

00:00hrs: I woke-up wanting a wee-wee, and wheedled my way out of the c1968 recliner. Caught my balance, and grabbed Metal-Micky, and wondered wobbly off to the wee-wee room. Not that much came out, but at least the bladder is more willing to try this morning. Hehe!

Still, variety is the spice of life. Which nit-wit first said that?

Cleaned up, and wandered off to the kitchen, to get the Health Checks done. The thermometer gave a reading of only 32.4°c?  That’s flaming low? What’s going of here?

Then the Boots BP sphygmomanometerisationing showed the SYS to be the opposite, really high again?

Confusion reigns! Which is another way of saying, everything is normal then!

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and set about creating a template for, and then creating a blog about yesterday’s Escape to town, pictorially and in rhyme, of sorts. It took me many hours, but I was reasonably pleased with the result. Emailed the link, and posted off the blog.

I made a start on updating yesterday’s IT (Inchcock Today) and stuck at it with resolve and determination. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters mainly caused this, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) had both died down at the same time and were being very cooperative with me. Oh, Yes!

I got it finished, emailed the link, posted it off top WordPress, Pinterested the photos, did some Facebooking updating, and then got the new Warfarin dosages and checked them. Then I took the Dioctyl® stool softener capsule.

Then had a perusal of the WordPress Reader section. Missed it yesterday with the escape to town farce. Lots of good posts today.

I did an Iceland order in response to their Email Priority reminder. I made the order for next Tuesday, 3rd November 2020, between 08:00 hrs > 10:00 hrs. I’ve only just spent enough to get free delivery, so I hope that they are not out of stock on anything that will bring the total too low.

I used to think that Iceland was not very good at packing food, but Sainsbury’s have taken the lead now, as the most discourteous, food damaging, lousy substitute-pickers, and running out of stock, stores now! Mind you, Tesco did me bad one day, sent a wall clock with the food, and it was broken when it arrived – I didn’t get a reply or refund from them, so no trade from me since! Although to be honest, Asda has sent me some silly stuff as substitutes, in the past. I’m running out of stores to ban! Hehehe!

I got some waste bags made up, and took them in the three-wheeler-walking guide to the waste-chute room.

Unfortunately, I trapped my right hand on the microscopically small metal opening, just after taking this photograph Humph!

On my way back to the flat across the lift lobby, with throbbing knuckles (Haha!), I saw how splendidly welcoming, and originally colourful and gay the new decor looked in the dim lighting.

Still determined, I got on with the template and made a start on this blog. Dusty’s tune rang froth from the door alarms, and before I could get up, Matron Jackie was in the room with me. So nice to see her!

She said she was in the block to see someone else and she’s decided to call in to see how I was going on with the bladder and bowel problems. I explained about the wee-wee colourings, but at last, they were getting lighter again, and the porcelain Throne visits are soggier. Hehehe! The gave me her units number in case I need any help in future.

Gave me a temperature check, during which I showed her the results from the new forehead thermometer, and the reading she’d taken, was 2°c higher. So she tried it with the Amazon one, and it was way lower. Told me not to use it, as it was well out of sync.

  Then, Jackie got my ear thermometer out and had a look at it, and told me not to use it with the cones on it, I tried, and it worked this way! I’ll use this again in future.

Then she had a look at the furuncle on my rear quarters. (I was a little Red-faced at this. Haha!) It is not a boil, but she wasn’t sure what it was, but she cared enough to tell me to keep an eye on it and call her if it doesn’t clear up in a week. We laughed my keeping an eye on it, Hahaha! 

She even took away the used Enoxaparin needle box for me! What a gal!

I felt really cared about and for, with he helpful attitude, and was cheered up so much! After she had gone, I began to sink again, but it was so good having her call unexpectedly! Thanks, Matron Jackie, ♥

I took this photo of the City Hospital earlier, and phoned Pete to see how he was going, he’s just finished his radiation sessions but is now suffering from bad sickness. A horrible time he’s going through, naturally worried, but coping with it well, I think.

I’ve got the Doctor to visit in the morning, CDH checks, I must remember to take a sample with me.

Got te meal ready, not one of my best efforts by along chalk. Flavour-Rating only 5/10.

I think I got the ‘blues’ a little; this always happens after a cheering-up visit from the Matron or nurse, and the realisation that I am all alone again.

Did the pots, got a wash and the TV on. Sweet Morpheous was reluctant to enfold me tonight, and the flaming Thought-Storms started. Hey-ho!

Inchcock Today – Wednesday 28th October 2020:

TFZers ♫ Singing in the Rain ♫ Anglo-American Production

Wednesday 28th October 2020

Spanish: Miércoles 28 de Octubre de 2020

00:15hrs: I came back to semi-life, having only gotten to sleep an hour or so before, (Blungletadskis and Argh!) The need for a wee-wee developed as I was excruciatingly painfully removing my elephantine-like stomached body from the recliner. The reason for the discomfort being the returning furuncle in the posterior region. Undaunted, (but almost in tears), I proceeded to haul myself up onto my spindly legs and catch my balance, and wobbled off to the wet room, hopefully for a wee-wee, but you never know these days. Tsk!

I say wee-wee, it was another of the barely-perceptible 20-second mini-sprinkles, but with a high degree of AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble). But I’m used to this, so patiently waited, checking that things had really stopped, now and then, until it did. 

I washed-up, and was coming out of the room as a sudden, urgent need for the Porcelain-Throne arrived! And a good job it did, had I got any further I would not have made it in time! Got down, the action, totally under the control of the innards started, and by the time I’d realised how painful it was, it had all finished! Talk about messy, again. Still, a bit of variety this morning, the khaki colour of the last few visits, had turned to a yellowish-deep-brown and consisted of the squashed meatball type. Only a small amount of bleeding, presumably from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. But it had made Furuncle-Fred annoyed and more inflamed, on its way out. He’ll need some attention after the ablutions.

Off to the kitchenette. Taking a picture from the light and view-blocking, impossible to get at to clean, rain-letting-in, and designed by an old-age pensioner-hating, gerontophobic, scared of old age designer, windows. Not too bad an effort. Moody?

I got the kettle on, and then tackled the Health Checks. The SYS level came out high again at 161, the DIA and Pulse seemed okay to me. The new digital, no-touch, forehead thermometer was used, as the other two were not working again. Why does this happen? I suppose it’s all down to the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum, usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock’?

Anyway, the temperature was fine, at a healthier than of late, 34.1°c.

I made the brew of Glengettie tea and took the medications.

Then I got Computer Cameron on the go, and nipped back to the kitchen, to take a Dioctyl® capsule, that I’d forgotten earlier.

I had a little chinwag with my TFZer donated flatmates, Koala Katie, and Teddy Teresa for a while (Don’t laugh!).

Then started working on the computer. Photograph-sorting first. Replied to an Email from Jenny, then started to update the Tuesday blog, which took me hours of graft, too much concentration, a ton of mistakes, and forever being corrected, for hours and hours! The hands were not too steady this morning.

I went to make a mash of Glengettie tea, and I saw the moon was out. And what a right picklement I made of the photographicalisationing, thank mostly to Nicodemus’s flipping neurotransmitters playing up at the wrong time again. I got one right! Phwert!

Finished off the post, and sent it to WordPress. Pinterested some photos, and emailed the link off. Went on Facebook, and replied to some comments, got the picture albums updated. Replied to some views on WordPress. Then went to make another mug of tea, Thompsons Punjana this time.

Ablutions the next job. A pretty good session all bar the showering, many dropsies and a few bangs and knocks against the grab rail.

Iceland delivery.  Put the goods away; I didn’t anticipate getting the Milk Roll bread at all, because they have not had any in for months of ordering it; so I ordered some rolls as well. They caught me out with sending the lot today! Serves me right for trying to be clever!

I took the rolls down to Jenny’s door, that gal will make sure things are made use of properly. Bless her.

I returned to the apartment, after another job and a half getting the lift back up. And I got things ready for ‘Escape ‘Isolation to Town – No.6’ trip.

A separate blog with all photos to be made. I’ll put the link in here later. Here it is Inchcock’s Escape from Lockdown! Picture Style and in Ode

I checked to see I’d got everything needed: Card, bus-pass, keys and fob, money, list etc. and soon set out off on my escape to town! Here are a few photos taken on the visit to Nottingham City Centre, all of them are in Escape blog.

I set out, full of vim, energy, vitality and in fine-form health and mentally… Well, maybe not, then! Anyway, I took a picture of each of the Courts at Winwood Heights, along Chestnut Walk. Woodthorpe, Winwood and Winchester.

I called in Winwood Court, to see ILCs (Independent Living Coordinators) Wardens, Reichsführer and Catwalk Model Warden Deana, and Sturmscharführer Pole-dancer, Julie, in their holding and interrogation office, for a little quick natter.

Not as cosy as the old rooms in the Portacabin, but then with all the new residents they have to confine and control, they need the room to store the handcuffs, pepper-spray and barbed-wire-edged facemasks. Hehehe!

Then caught the bus into town, the L9. A most uncomfortable ride, it was. Having to constantly keep my feet under the trolley-guide, to stop it spinning and running all over the place. By the time I’d got into town, Arthur Itis, and Colin Cramps were both giving me some stick! Hey-ho! The rest of the trip out tale is in the Poetic blog at the link above.

The ride back home, again on an L9 bus, was even more painful than the one going to town! The obvious stock-car-racing driver ensured I was in agony at times, during the trip. The company that runs the L9s have blocked off all of the side-saddle seats, so it’s challenging keeping the trolleys steady now. Colin Cramps was particularly annoyed with me.

I limped along, somewhat wearily now, (Poor old sausage!) and hobbled wobbly passed Winwood Court to Woodthorpe at the end of the road.

I got into the exquisitely stylish, graceful, ornamentally decorated, attractive entrance foyer, with the wedged-open fire doors, and took a little rest, as the breathing was not coming too easily now, All okay after few minutes though.

Then into the lift lobby. I took a snap of my youthful, attractive, masculine, muscle-toned features that drive women so wild, as the doors opened to the lift cage. (Alright! I was only dreaming. Hehe!)

I unloaded the three-wheeler, the nibbles and treats first. They (Poundland) had some mint flavoured Skinny Bars that I got, and they can be used as treats. The Toffifee’s are mine, all mine! Hahaha! Biscuits for treats as well.

The non-food purchases, which I was so pleased to find. Particularly the Lavender & Orange oil Dettol, which I had to pay a small fortune for, to get any, from Amazon. Great saving at £2 a bottle. Then the 30l waste bags, I took a gamble and got three rolls. I hope they are not too thin.

The highlight of my buys was finding some Frazzles, and I’d bought three bags of eight, so these will last me a long time. Sainsbury’s and Iceland have not had any in for ages. They are rather a weakness of mine; I can’t help it, I love ’em!

I got the chilli mix going, added some gravy to it, onions and forgot about the tomatoes, Tsk! But, I was tickled-pink in having the milk roll to soak up the generous amount of gravy I’d made. I’m getting into this Chill-Con-Carne, now. Even the canned ones are okay.

I imbibed the medications, washed, and the chilli was ready for serving up. The potatoes I put in it were not so nice, but everything else was spot on. The milk roll bread was perfect! (I’m repeating myself now, Tsk!) Overall Taste Rating was 7/10. Those potatoes let things down.

I got the camera on charging.

The heavens kept opening up and closing down; a lot of rain had been avoided at least. If I’d hot soaked while out as well as the pain, it would have been a nightmare. So, a bit of luck there for the grumpy old Nottinghamian pensioner!

Worrying, innit, him having good luck? Unnatural! 

Too tired to even think about doing anything on the diary, I got stripped, jammie-bottom on, and down in the recliner really early, and got the TV on, and headphones over the head. I can’t remember what I watched, but I did find some Sweet Morpheus earlier than usual. I reckon that, although I woke up at midnight, I’d had a good five hours of sleep… Bootiful!

Inchcocksi – Monday 26th October 2020: The evenings effluviums, were evil!

A TFZeress performs at the ‘Sock-it-to-them’ stage night!

Monday 26th October 2020

Esperanto: Lundo 26a de Oktobro 2020

00:40hrs: I woke with the shakes and aches, especially from SSS Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley. Likely due to the shoulder-charge into the wet-room door frame, yesterday. Made all the worse, as is to be expected, hitting the wood with the dodgy neurotransmitter affected right-side, but bouncing off it and hitting the left shoulder: And going down against the grain! – I don’t want to do that again! – Oh, the feeling a fool, and pain! – T’was, the Peripheral Neuropathy, to blame! Not the best poetry, but it can naturally to me, Hehe!

As I lay there waiting for things to calm down, I hoped and prayed the need for a wee-wee didn’t arrive. It did! However, not until things were near normal again with the shakes, so nae bother Phew! I got my bulbous-bellied body free of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and with no need to rush, I made my way carefully to the wet-room. Memories of the collision and tumble fresh in my memory made me a soupçon nervous as I went through the door. But all went well!

I soon wondered why I’d bothered going at all. The wee-wee, although now of a lighter shade, thus less infected, just wasn’t interested about coming out through Little Inchy? The bladder told me I had plenty of urine ready to flow, but only a few sprinkly drops escaped, and they still managed to sprinkle over me and the WC! What a waste of time and effort! Another cleaning up job!

There was a new stinging pain from the rear end, not a Haemorrhoid Harold sort of spasm, though. I investigated… gently… Argh! A new furuncle methinks! Oy, oy, oy! Here I go again, is it a sadist who likes pain, or a masochist? Hahaha!

I made my way to the kitchenette and got the kettle plugged in and turned on. Then started the Health Checks. I began with the Enoxaparin injectionalisationing. I do like these new hypodermics, far less painful than the old ones, to use, but no blue blood squalls are showing afterwards, at all?

BP sphygmomanometer showed that the SYS had gone down well from yesterday’s 171.

The pulse was up a bit, but this was nothing for me to fret over, methinks. I still can’t work out why this machine stopped working and has come back on?

The view outside, offered a magnificent spot of cloud-reading, with a pronounced and seeable creatures head (just left of middle in this photograph wot I took), I was tickled pink with it. Can you see it? I had to take the picture before the image changed. The nose, eye, mouth, with a chin as well, maybe a tail? The easiest bit of pandiculating, ever! Smug-Mode-Decon 3-Adopted! Hehehe! 

Back to Health Checking. The fancy new infrared thermometer came up with a temperature form the forehead, of 33.5°c, which seems fair enough.

I made the brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, dropping the milk sachet as I emptied it into the mug. Clapbogsworthyness! More bending and cleaning again! Tsk!

Of course, I wasn’t upset, annoyed or irked in the slightest about SSS making me have to clean up and go through the agony of going on my knees, and washing the floor. Or the even more painful task of getting back up on my feet. No, I took it all in my stride, almost jocularly, casually, with a pinch of salt! Huh!

As I was getting the computer going, the bladder told me to go back to the wet room. So, casually, I did. Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, got there just in time, and talk about a different style, this release was of the SPUTE (Sharp-Persistent-Unwilling-To-End) mode. I was in there so long; I nearly grew a beard! Ah-well, it made a change.

I got on with the updating, time was flashing by for some reason, as I checked the watch. I felt a right Twillock when it dawned on me. I’d not changed the time on the magnificent timepiece that I got from the charity shop last year, for £2. Within days it started to go rusty, and within weeks needed a new battery for £15, and watchstrap (Which broke three days later), for £10. Still, it works. Hehe!

I got the waste-bags made-up, collected and collated, the onto the three-wheeler walker trolley. Rather a lot of them today, but I coped without any hassle to get them to the chute-room and deposited down the tube.

After more faffling about, getting things wrong and corrected, I think at least. I got it posted off to WordPress. I emailed the link. Pinterested some snaps, and had to move sharpishly back to the wet room, to utilise the porcelain Throne.

This session was so pongy, messy and almost green/Karki in colour, but that didn’t matter too much – cause it was a virtually painless evacuation! Yee-Haa! The first one for months! As I mentioned the other day, I think I did; A combination of the Dioctyl®, Macrogol®, Drinking a lot of water, and a few Chilli-Con-Carne meals seem at long last to have done the trick! I have another one later today, a canned job, not up to fresh cooking this Monday.

Mind you, and it costs me a fortune in toilet paper, WC cleaner, air-freshener, and disinfectant! Humph! Not to mention the agony of having to bend to clean up afterwards, and the inevitable dropping stuff or knocking it off the floor cabinet, and getting back on my feet again. Siver-Lining-Search-Results: At least I didn’t have any leg-dancers, dizzy spells, or wobblies! I lost a lot of time, though.

I decided after having a wash and anticepticalisationing session. I made a brew of my beloved Glengettie before getting back to the computing. Went on the WordPress Reader section, answered two comments (they flood in, don’t they). Then did the Facebooking catching-up. Created a template for today, which took me yonks, and then made a start on this blog.

A lot of dank-rain and sunshine as midday approached, ever-changing.

I hoped to find a possible rainbow, but no! The sun came out as I got on the balcony, and helped make another interesting cloudy picture for me.

My beloved, treasured, sweetheart of a vampire (phlebotomy), nurse, with her twinkling eyes, and beautiful smile arrived. She was in a hurry, as today I am an extra job for her, with having to have another blood test. I’m hoping they ring me back before I fall asleep to tell me the results, and what Warfarin doses and Enoxaparin injections to take. But it’s getting late now, so they might be late in letting me know. Never mind, though!

I got the can of Chilli in the saucepan on a low light and added some tomato & basil sauce, and Jenny’s yellow and red tomatoes sliced to the mix and stirred it well.

I didn’t want to fall asleep and get woken up again.

Oddly at the very time that I was writing this down, my £889, Nokia 8.3 5G, with 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g Side fingerprint scanner, and Google Assistant button, Punch hole camera, LCD 21:9, 60Hz, and 6.81-inch display, rang and lit up.

These specs, may not be the same as Inchcocks phone, seen here on the left pretending it is on the web and has a camera. The old chap Inchy, doctored the photo on CorelDraw to add his Sister Jane, Brother-in-law Pete, and their much loved and missed, Mr Fooey, the cat, to his actual mobile)

It was Julie from the Warfarin Unit, asking if I had a blood test this morning, and I concurred. She was concerned because they had not received the blood yet, nearly eight hours after it was taken? So, it looks like another night of no sleep coming up! I’d better turn off the Chilli-Con-Carne the, I don’t want it burnt.

Now, I’m worried about Hristina too. Oh, dear!

Went on CorelDraw to try and get a graphic done,  for the IT (Inchcock Today) page tops. I only got one completed, then Julie called back with the readings. I’ve to stop the Enoxaparin injections. My INR level is up to 2. Warfarins Tonight; 2 – Tue 2 – Wed 2½ – Thur 2 – Fri 2½ – Sat 2 – Sun 2½. Blood test for Wednesday needs arranging with my Doctor. I was confused about this; I think she sensed this and said she would ring for me, thank you, Julie.

I took the medications. Washed, jammies on, got the nosh sorted. This canned Chilli-Con-Carni is not half-bad at all. I had two mini-pots of lemon mousse, and some brown bread thins with it. Using the tomato and basil cooking sauce in it, made things just a tad hotter than I would have liked, I’d hoped that Jenny’s yellow tomatoes would have calmed it down a bit. But I still gobbled it all up. Mmm! Tim Price, an enthusiast, connoisseur, aficionado, and Bon Vivant of all things ‘Chilli’ would have been proud of me. And also, besides and as well as, he thinks my new-found taste for chilli-con-carne, will keep things flowing in the Porcelain Throne area! I might try some rice with it next time.

As I washed the meal things, well, not the basin, that needed soaking in a bowl for a day or two in bleach and strong washing-up liquid to get the chilli stains out of it. Hahaha!

At last, I got myself settled down. Better late than never, got the TV on, started to watch a Gordon Ramsay USA programme, and was most annoyed when I didn’t fall asleep!

When I did drop off, I was woken up by the dang wee-weeing needs, indeed, a rarity for me at night. Grumbleblocks!

I woke again later, and, the effluvium from the rear end, nearly had me choking, Cor blimey, that Chilli-Con-Carne!

Inchcock – Sun 25 October 20: I floated from neurasthenia, utopia, depression and slothfulness. Worra day!

TFZer Keith: ♫ ‘Home, home on the range…’ ♫ Hehehe!

Sunday 25th October 2020

HMONG: Hnub Sunday 25 Lub Kaum Hli 2020

03:15hrs: I stirred into ersatz life, with the Thought-Storms that had made such a mess of my getting to sleep, still active, nae, rampant in the grey cells! Fungleboggles!

The new pain in the stomach area where I injected last night was stabbing away at me, although it could have been Anne Gyna, it’s hard to tell at times. I wasn’t Duodenal Donald, I’m sure.

I was busy trying to ignore the fears, hatreds and overwrought distracted thoughts milling about in my bonce, and help soon arrived in the form of a sudden and critical demand for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised.

I could sense the urgency, and feared that an embarrassing escapage was likely! Responding, by going into a semi-panic-stricken mode, a caution to the wind attitude was adopted, and I flailed about, knocking things off of the ottoman as I hauled my fat-fleshy, flaccid, flexuous, floppy, stomached heavy body onto my feet, got some balance, and was off to the wet room.

Hastening into the Throne-Room, the shoulder came into contact with the door frame, giving out a sicking crunching noise, and a jolt of pain! But this was not important at the time, getting the jammy-bottoms, and my bum on the toilet in time was more urgent (at least it took my mind off of the new stomach stings, Haha!).

This session was a real different one this morning, good and bad changes! Things flowed, to the accompaniment of the longest wee-wee I’ve ever had! The putrid aroma filled my lungs; the evacuation was over in a minute or so. Gawd, it was messy! It was a good job I have plenty of toilet paper in stock! The wee-weeing continued? Hard to tell really, but I do believe the wee-wee colour was lighter, at last! The gungy mass of stool filled the bowl so much, the wee didn’t have anywhere to go, and floated atop! Still, it took my mind off off the crunched shoulder and stomach pains for a while!

The tank had to be flushed twice to clear things, refilled by hand from the jug and sink. Then I had a soapy washing up, bleaching and sanitisationing session. Time for a feel of the shoulder, which the Accifauxpas did not set SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off?

No idea what it was on the arm, but I went to put some Savlon on it, and the lighter brown marks from this mornings clout into the doorframe, (I thought), nearly all disappeared, sort-of washed off?  Just the bluey-red bruises underneath left now. Logicality, common sense was questioned, and a certainty that the end is nigh for my limited remaining scraps of judgement and level-headedness! This ought to put on telly; there’s bound to be someone who can save my sanity and tell me what happened?

I now had mixed feelings. Glad that Constipation Konrad had been beaten at last – but this has taken some time and effort: Nine days of the four-a-day Dioctyl® stool softeners. The week of MacroBid® UTI antibiotics and several meals of Chilli-Con-Carne. Hahaha!

I was not looking forward to doing the injecting of the Enoxaparin, so got it dealt with first! The new hypodermic needles, which I suspected would have longer needles, didn’t! That was a nice discovery, a glimmer of luck at last?

All went smoothly, and the old Medical Sharps bin, was too full to use, so I started the new one-off. This made me think about getting rid of them. I looked it up of the NHS site. This is what I found.

All confused now! I’ve re-capped the mall! I’d better get them all out and sort them, before getting rid of them to the Pharmacy. I’m certain that the Nottingham City Council do not collect them, or there would be a special, dedicated box for them at these old folks flats?

Nope! I can’t open the box’s to get them out. Another plan goes to pot! And the shoulder is starting to smart now! Grumptiville! 

Ah, well, I got the Health Checks done, the old sphygmomanometer is still working. But the SYS is still too high. I wonder why? (I sigh!)

The no-contact thermometer was used, and, I got the camera all ready, to snap it before it self-turned off.

Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on the boil, and took this blind-snap of Chestnut Walk in the dark, below the thick-framed, new windows, that is impossible for disabled folk to get to for cleaning, thick-framed and obviously designed by someone who suffers from a hatred for the elderly and gerontophobia.

Made the brew of the tasty Glengettie tea, took the medications and got on the computer. I last nights photographs to CorelDraw. I faffed about a bit, going from one thing to another again, but eventually got the Saturday blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Then Pinterested some snaps. Did some Facebooking, then went on the WordPress Reader. I found an email from Jenny, offering me some more yellow tomatoes, bless her cotton socks, she’s going to bring them down for me later today, bless her cotton socks. ♥

Time to get the ablutions sorted out, I took the mug to the kitchen and took a photo of the beautiful morning view, to compare with the earlier one.

Then, it dawned on me after I’d stripped to get the ablutions done. I’d not changed the timing on my time-pieces. So I did! I changed the clock in the kitchen, the wet room travel clock, the wall clock that fell of the wall and the casing broke, that is now balanced, resting on the fireplace top, but had a feeling I’d missed something, ah-well, not to fret.

So off I trotted (Trotted? Hahaha!) to the wet room, and had a marvellous session, mostly. There was nae bother from Toothache Thomas, and just three dropsies. The shaving had only two minor nicks, but several dropsies. The showering was the only blight of the session. I clouted the same wounded shoulder again, as I was coming up from retrieving the shower gel bottle (Six dropsies altogether in there). The showerhead escaped my clutches and landed on my overgrown painful already left big toe… Then bounced back up right into the cartilage-troubled right knees patella!

If I recall correctly, I silently mouthed something like “Tsk, never mind, can’t be helped!” (Yer!)

The doing of the medicationalisationing had only two incidents worth mentioning, I knocked several of the medications off of the floor cabinet, and clouted my head against the metal frame of the seat-raiser as I stretched with the picker-upperer, to retrieve the Germoloid and Savlon tubes. Gragnangles!

Got dressed and had a search around for the hat I went into the wet room wearing, I’m sure I did, but it’s never been seen since. More of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ They are working hard this morning!

I got the jammy-bottoms washed, all done, wrung and hung to dry, above the sink. Which proved later to be an idiotic thing to do, as I would need to use the sink while preparing Josie’s dinner! Crumpalisations!

The new pains in the left of the chest returned. I was surprised I noticed really, cause there are that many ailments having a go at me at the same time. The bruised arm, Duodenal Donald, the PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), The toenail on the left foot, and just started, Reflux Roger. Silver-Lining-Result-Search-Result: At least the others are being kind to me. Humph!