Photographicalisations were taken Friday & Saturday.
Sorry about this, but with all the struggling to see proper and sort them out, CorelDraw crashed twice, had to reload from disc, and I now have three SD cards, which in an effort to sort out, I’ve not the foggiest of which camera that came from, or went back into. So frustrating. I’ve got to get CorelDraw sorted out yet… if I can. After ten hours with all the delays, doing the ode and graphics, all I want to do is get something to eat and get my head down… Oh, the Carer’s due anytime now!
The photos are a mess, not good and mixed chronologically. (Sounds painful that… Hehe) I’ve had all sorts of bother again. Nine hours of just making the Ode! CorelDraw has gone down twice, Virgin once. Word once. Computer once. And, after all that time getting the Odes done, I had to sort out CorelDraw to get it working again… blind try this, try that methodology used. And I’ve the new (old) Lumix camera to try to sort again. The SD cards… Well, I got confused about which camera they came from and which they went back into. But the pictures have to be put on here, not that they are exciting or even passable.
I’ve just about had enough. I think the diary will have to go and stick with Odeing, what do you think? With the eyes and Doreen, and my luck with anything like cameras and computers, it’s just taking all day, and I love doing it, but something has to go to save precious time. Anyway, here are the pictures, but from when… Mmm! Sorry. Some, like Fridays, I think, are the first ones. They are a sad collection; why am I bothering?
This is Carer Joseph. Who couldn’t help with the Lumix, Fuji or Canon (I think that’s had it) cameras, computer, or CorelDraw? Which, of course, is the same with very Carer, and indeed me too. Hahaha! Nice lad, Joseph, if only he’d take a course in Computers, cameras and… Haha!
Ah, Risotto, I got this out, and Carer Sam, with difficulty, read a wrote down the cooking instructions for mem Bless her. Ah, that was this morning! I’m sure it was. On the right, so,e extra mushroom I was cooking to go into the Risotto. Yes, I actually thought I’d get it cooked! That would be about twelve hours ago now.
No memory of taking this one?
Then again, I have a lot of lost memories. Make note, whippersnappers, this may happen to you if Doreen Dementia arrives in your later years. I think I made with graphic of the Lumix last night. I seem to recall making up a gritting sarcastic to self Ode to put on here with the photo. I’ve no idea what I did with it now. Well, apart from a few shots from the kitchenette window taken today, that’s yer lot!
I got the Fuji working again early this morning. Judging by the shape of the photos, I took some of these on it. The later ones, I think, were done on the Lumix; I was trying to use the Panasonic option, a foolish waste of time, my unsteadiness of the hands and fingers should have told me not to bother. But Doreen Dementia wasn’t having anything workable to happen to me, naturally! Here are the crap shots from throughout the day that I seem to have taken.
All that bother to get it right too! The note Samantha did for me did not say if the 600ml of water needed to be boiled before or after putting the contents of the packet in the saucepan.
I had a hell of a job translating it from the packet. I had to use the little circle on the magnifying glass but could only see one or two words at a time. Brought the pack to the computer, put the one or two words into the Google translator, back to the glass repeatedly. It took me ages, but the magic words were eventually showing; boiling water… stir continuously.
It turned out very bland. And I’d added the last few garden peas and extra mushrooms as well. Shan’t bother with that brand again.
07:20hrs: I burst back into the world of woes with the regulation jump, jerk and jabberwockies. Realising how late it was, I climbed out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, was on the way to unlocking the door for Carer Richard and I had to nip into the wet room. The actual evacuation was even easier than the last three days or so. But messier, you can’t win them all. It was the worry over the water flood in the room that spoilt my pleasure with the rare good Throne visit. The water does not seem to lessen at all overnight, and, I admit, it made me nervous to walk in the water to get to the sink for a stand-up wash and shave. I chickened out. Cowardy cowardly custard! I can remember a year or so ago when the drain stopped working, and my going in to get the ablutions done… Mostly I remember the walking stick slipping in the water and my falling and entangling myself with the sock glide. The cuts and bruises took ages to clear up.
Hopefully, the maintenance will arrive today to have a look at the shower problem. I hope so because I must be ponging a bit by now, going showerless for so long. I’ve just had a sniff… Yep!
Arrived, and I’d forgotten again to unlock the door for him. He was in a rush this morning, so very little nattering was allowed. A inquired about his getting some sleep, but he was down in the mouth as he told me of the 24-hour gas works outside where he lives still drilling away and partiers making a racket again. Gave him some lager, teacakes and a bottle of Inchcock’s Special Brew. (That be a litre of Schweppes tonic water, with some orange cordial added, and stored overnight in the fridge for him). I thought it might cheer him up a bit; I got the first smile off of him as he left, taking the waste bags with him to the chute for me. Poor lad.
I got out the checking gear for sphygmomanometerisationing and the temperature reading.
I thought it was an idea to open the balcony windows to let a bit of fresh air in while I did the HCs… having not had a shower, no signs of any NCH maintenance man arriving yet. The howling wind encouraged me to close the doors again.
The results were heartwarming, all good readings again, and I was back down into the amber zone! The third time in three weeks!
Back on the computer, Cleaner Esther came in to get the laundry things. And she did not tell me off about a single thing! Mind you, she has to come back with the washing yet, so we’ll see. Hehe! She doesn’t frighten me!
Is back at his hobby, making steam trains for charity. I’m not sure if he makes so much noise on purpose or not. Hope he doesn’t kick off late at night again.
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang from the door chime. My heart gladdened and burst with joy at the thought of the Nottingham City Homes plumber arriving to sort the shower out for me… Humph! It was neighbour Josie returning the things from her Sunday-Monday meal delivery. It was nice to see her, but all I said was not heard nor answered; she had not got her hearing aids in. So I smiled effusively and often. I never did find out if she enjoyed the meals or not. Bless her!
A text message came through on my G6 Nokia Lumia 929 Icon mobile phone. Only joking! I thought it might be from the NCH plumber (again, I am a fool), but no, it was EE trying to sell me some crap for when I go abroad to save money! Another flutter of hopefulness, utterly destroyed!
♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang from the door chime. Aha! Is this the NCH plumber? Nope, it was Esther returning. She explained that she was going to South Africa for three weeks’ holiday but had someone who could cover for her. She phoned the lady, Carol, who came to check me out. Nice lady, an ex-carer, and agreed to do the washing for me after Esther had explained my problems. They left together. Now waiting for Esther to return, and she did. She’d spoken with Deana to see what day they may be coming. Deana has reported it. It’s just a case of waiting now… Fancy that!
With so little sleep, I am getting irritable with myself, I think. Not with others, just with me. Not much chance of catching up on the sleep, well, none! I’ve got to stay awake to have the slightest chance of hearing the intercom when they arrive. If I go into the wet room, I can’t hear it, so, no opportunity to address my filthy stinking body with a stand-up wash and shave… risky (tumbles, slips) anyway with water still on the wet room floor… I’m not a winner, am I?
I got creative when I went to make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. Ailments have stopped me from taking landscape photographs long since. So I took two snaps of the view from the kitchen window, put them together and trimmed them with CorelDraw. This is the outcome: Rather semi-pleased with this.
After making the brew, it had gone a smidge dark, and I took this picture of the wonderful if dank clouds this afternoon.
Good for Esther to arrange cover for her holiday. Time to get something to eat, methinks. So I did!
I knew it would happen. I fell asleep. No idea if any plumbers arrived and could not get in cause I couldn’t hear the intercom. If I can wake up early enough in the morning, before the NCH plumbers arrive, I will have to risk having a shave and stand-up wash and be ready for the ‘Will they come today’ big wait-in. Again!
Sharon arrived to wake me up. Medications given. Cold drinkies from the fridge in appreciation chosen.
On with updating this blog. Then on the WP Reader, answered a mass of comments came in on this blog. Got them both replied to.
The landline rang; it was Nathaniel from the Diabetes Defence Team. It was hard to hear everything he said, but I think I got the gist of the call. He told me to attend the next session on Friday 12th August. He would stay behind afterwards and talk me through the missed first session. Being aware of Dementia Doreen, I asked him to please rng Warden Deana to inform her, so she can arrange transport – explaining that I feared I may forget to ask her. He said he would, and I thanked him profusely. Getting back may be dodgy, might need a bus or tram, then two more buses, to get back to the flats. Being a Friday evening, there will be no Wardens or Carer boss available if there are any problems encountered. I am a worry-guts!
I did it again. Drifted of to sleep, and I was woken by Carer Sarah. Who got the medications sorted, and I forced a treat from the fridge on the gal in thanks. ♥ I checked the texts on the super new G6 Nokia phone to see if any messages had come in from Nottingham City Homes about the shoer repair attendance. Nothing on it, so I hope I’ve not missed them. Sarah said they do not call on non-emergencies after 17:00hrs.
Which got me thinking. I could get a stand-up shave and wash when Sarah has gone. I can lock the front door and dive into the wet room, and if I take extra care throughout, can I still get the ablutions done? After dithering a while, I gave myself the go-ahead. Worra, good session! I carefully blocked off the flood water with a mop bucket, and I pulled the shower curtain over the other area. Then if I wandered into the danger area without thinking, the noise of either obstacle should alert me to the danger – it worked a treat! Fair enough, it did cause a , but it saved me having a tumble. I was proud of myself for once. No bleeding teeth, not a single nick shaving! Yes! And, just a few small flecks of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inches fungal lesion had not been bleeding at all – plenty of stinging, of course, when I medicated the little unused other than for wee-weeing thing. Hehehe!
I came out of the wet room, a cleaner, sweeter-smelling Inchie. (Aftershave, deodorant, and the smell of Germoloid and Germolene creams helped. Hehe!) And had o go back in for a rear-end evacuation. Always something, whenever I begin to feel smug! It was a delayed action, a sudden swift and spurting movement, and so messy as things got sprayed to amazing distances. Cleaning it up also needed care to avoid slipping on the standing water. Still, I got it all sorted. Grade Two .
I sky when I got into the kitchen, was looking fantasic. I’ll put the earlier shots I’d taken here, with the latest one last. I’ll make the shots a little larger, so they can be appreciated. What a change!
A feast for the eyes. When I get cataracts done, I can really relish watching them again.
I carried in with updating and posted this blog off to WP.
At around 02:00hrs, I woke for the first time. In need of a wee-wee and got to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) in plenty of time for a change. But it must have been several minutes that I stood there waiting for the PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling) to complete its dribbling mission. Back to the recliner, and I tried to reattain some sleep. Which, in a way, I repeatedly did. But it seemed like every five minutes, I was back to springing awake with a jump or jerk. Haha! The jerk is likely me. During one of the sojourns to the grey plastic bucket, I realised how easier the ankle and foot felt. Several more wee-wees were needed, thankfully without the PMAD. So got the cannon, turned on the flash, and took a photo. That ointmentating last night has done me a lot of good! I gave up on getting more sleep, and I got up around 06:00hrs and got the medical box out. Started. I got the readings and tool the usual photographicalisations of them, but they were not to be found on the camera card later? Nor last night’s nosh, either? A good job I wrote down the numbers; sometimes I don’t, just use the photo I’d taken. Input the results as above right. The BP was up a fair bit, the pulse a smidgeon, and the body temperature once again OK! Made the graph and waddled off into the kitchenette to get the first brew of the day going. I opted for Thompsons’ Punjana with semi-skimmed milk (that’s all I had in!). I saw a mass of smoke coming up from the far distance. In the Basford area, I think. But remembered abbot the card not taking photos. So took out the card to check the lock button, blew into the card holder slot, and reinserted it. Back to the window, and the smoke had got a lot less. I could see the blue lights flashing around the area. I went back to the computer and quickly checked the emails. Oh, dear! I found I’d got a J Sainsbury order that I thought was due on Friday. This is going to be fun getting the food in the already packed fridge… but I like a challenge. Started on the WP comments; well, I got one anyway. And the JS order arrived nice and early. The driver put the items into the two saved boxes and asked for a bag as well. Seems I got carried away again with the ordering; mind you, it’s good that I now have a lot of spring water in stock. If there is another heat wave, no doubt the panic buying will start again. The man out the stuff in the hallway for me. Among the items purchased were mixed veg in water and whole free Jersey cow milk. Orange cordials, vegan seasonings, bleach. Tomatoes with basil and something else I can’t make out? More stuff; bananas, fresh pod peas, yellow tomatoes, and fish-free fish sticks. Strawberries and roses for the warden’s weekly treat. I’ll take them down later on to the Wardens holding cells for them. Two first-time purchasers here; A different brand of burgers and some smokey cheese substitute. I’ll have to ask Richard to read the does & don’ts on the label in the morning. It feels very solid? Back to the blogging, and just as I started getting somewhere: Smoke & Mirrors Man Mr Fries Liberty-Global, Virgin Media died a death again! More time lost! Still, it may be an integral part of one of his ambidextrousness, chicanery, and self-financial-defence mechanism?
He’s probably convinced his bosses that he is making such a cock-up of running Virgin Media on purpose. If enough of the fog boys are all driving the same f-up of service and ignoring customers and may go bust, take BT, for instance, just as bad. Then the value of those companies will fall, and Liberty-Global can either get more than the $23.3 billion they bought it for and sell it or pick up a few more internet companies for peanuts, and we can ruin them as well… It Doesn’t make sense, does it? But I can see in my minds-eye Fries conning his bosses like this. Smoke & Mirrors are his forte! I don’t say these things lightly. And it is nothing to do with my being covetous of his manly looks, stubby-chin, masculine body. Nor jealously of his $23m a year salary, bonuses and expense account on top of it all, not to mention the grand back-handers and shares in the company he gets given. Or his gorgeous wife… Where was I? Started getting a little persistent again. He must have a big order on for some school or church? He reminds me of Harold Shipman without his beard. Finally got the ode added and finished yesterday’s blog. Doing this one will take ages with such a late start on it? Put the computer to sleep, and I took the treats down to the Wardens holding cell in Winwood Court. Forgot to take the camera with me. Huh! Got to the office, and I gave them a choice of plonk, the roses and strawberries, back up to the flat and carried on with this blog.
All I did was turn in the swivel chair to stand up, and an instant loss of balance hit me! Bounced off of the recliner, which was good, cause its well-padded. Rolled and gently plopped onto the floor, hitting my head on the table leg. Going to turn it all off and sit quietly for a while, then hopefully get summat to eat. Not eating might have encouraged the Dizzy Dennis spell?
Back later. Well, I hope so. Hehehe! I’m back…
Oddlimost Nosh for Ages… Tons of pod peas, nothing but the best… Black & yellow tomatoes with a tasty zest. No-Fish Fish Sticks, on this plate, the sweetest, Part-baked batch, the tastiest! A banana, two pots of desserts, Well, I was at my hungriest… I hope it is easy to digest!
Checked on the Plates-of-meat… The ulcer was looking a bit pink… Water retention put the feet out of sync, The bottom of the feet began to plink, Will that ulcer ever shrink? Involuntarily passed wind, what a stink!. Caused the nosh, I think?. When the carer’s been, I’ll wash and shave at the sink!
Evening Carer called, twas Valerie Val handed two letters from the box to me,
She sorted the medications professionally,
Thanked her with a punnet of fruit, strawberry,
I felt a fart building, but I didn’t let it free,
Leaving, she took the waste bags to the chute for me!
Letters Investigated… One letter was from the bank, the TSB… A leaflet, ‘We are here to help, that’s contradictory, Nottingham had 23 branches in 2003, now just one, sadly, And that’s miles away, that’s due for closure shortly… The other mail, from the Council, telling me… To go on the internet for a details inventory, Fill it in to be able to vote next January!
Late Ablutionalisation Session Thoughts In Ode
I look a little like I was growling?
The shower curtain shows its dolphin.
I’m stuck in the flat, not globetrotting,
Passing wind all the time, it needs fumigating,
Little Inchies fungal lesion exsanguinating,
The rear end began erupting…
My mind and concentration ever drifting,
Inwardly waffling, bloviating,
Moments of lucidity were thin…
Two stubbed toes… so aggravating!
Moments of pure daydreaming,
Yet I was content, although inwardly waffling…
With the Thoughtstorms bludgeoning…
Battering my brain, but not concerning?
I finished off, the toes still twingeing,
But, no point in my minging or ologoaning…
Hello, can I hear someone phoning?
Watched the Football Match
I was overjoyed that it was won by Germany!
France winning would be Whoopsiedangleploppery,
If England had to face France, possible misery…
England can win a competition final, finally…
Although, it certainly won’t be easy…
The final is played next Sunday,
Huh, guess who’s kicked off; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley!
That’s yer lot, can’t type in this condition. I’ll post this later.
I’m back: I nearly forgot Sister Jane rang me. The Police Pegasus has been in touch with her as a first-responder on the list. As soon as I heard this, I remembered the form they had sent for me to update my details. Carer Richard never got around to helping me fill it in, and I forgot all about it! What a twit! Jane rang them back and kindly called me back to say she had done it but had forgotten to tell them about the youths who came into the flat at 02:00hrs the other month. We are a pair for forgetting things! Hahaha!
I know I was awake until my last wee-wee bucket visit, which was around 03:00hrs this morning, and getting back to sleep came easily, for Sweet Morpheus has been very stingy with me of late. It didn’t last long, about three hours, for, at 06:00hrs, I shot awake, certain that noise had woken me up! I had to fight my unwillingness to rise from the recliner and have a search around for ant signs of intrusion, damage from something falling etc., but found nothing looking untoward?
I got the computer going, and the card reader worked the first time! I put in the close-up shots of the legs and the pathetic evening meal (Although I did enjoy it!). I got the blog for yesterday, finished it, posted it and off to the wet room; I poddled limpingly. The event went similarly to yesterday; Despite the innards telling me to let go and my input in trying to get things moving, it was painful, so much so that I gave up and waited for nature to sort things out. I had a go at the crossword while waiting patiently. I even got two more solutions in the grid. But… as I stood up to check on things for bleeding and giving myself a good wipe and clean up, as I turned to return the much-used toilet roll, Dizzy Dennis hit me. I naturally put my hand out towards the wall to stop any prospective tumble or fall for me – and if I remember rightly, the following found their way to the floor, some of them via the ankle ulcer and bloated toes. The olive oil bottle, after-shave, crossword book and pen, the Germoloid tube, the Germolene tube, and a half packet of Protection Pants! After finishing off my personal medications, I tackled the item retrieving and even got a fresh pair of PPs changed into. If anyone has any surplus supplies of Germoloid ointment or cream, I can willingly take it off of their hands, only I forgot to order some, and am now have just maybe, enough for two medicationalisationings of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, thank you).
All sorted, I went to get a cold drink from the fridge and noticed that it had been raining a bit. From the kitchenette window, I took a photo of the facing car park of Chestnut Way, an interesting bit of parking there,
Then, from the balcony, a snap of the Tree Copse, which only set me feeling sorry for myself now that I can’t go for my daily ramble through it.
Back into the cookhouse and started to p[rep the veg for Josie’s meal. I took another shot from close to the window to try and catch a decent image of the rain hitting the glass.My eyesight seemed a smidgeon worse this Sunday. To all intents and purposes, the spots were running down the glass; when I took off my spectacles, they were not and just seemed stuck like glue in the positions they were already? I went through my collection of old glasses; to see which helped better… or rather hindered my sight the least. I found that the oldest reader pair and ricketiest were for computing work. Normal or long distance, none of them helped. I hope they summon me soon for the cataract to be done.
Got the medical checks sorted out next.
SIA 134, DIA 79 and the pulse oas a reasonable 85bpm.
The body temperature was 33.3°f, with a target of 35°f, it was well acceptable to me.
Not the lowest SIA, but the combination of resusults, when put in the NHS Work it out site, showed me still in the orange Pre-High stage, and yesterday and this morning are the only times it’s been so low. Proof that mt Doctor is winning the battle to get my BP down. Thank you, Doctor Vindla. It only took you six years from the heart op to get it right… well, nearly right. (Ahem!)
Carer Joseph arrived. The poor thing looked shattered. The first thing I did was ask him how he was this morning? Not too bad, was his reply. I quipped; well, not too bad is better than not very good, Joseph! That brought a rare smile to his face, and it cheered me up too. He got the meds sorted and wearily got up from the chair where we’d had a natter from, picked a vodka and lime as his choice of drinkie-treats, and off he poddled. With my thanks and instruction for him to get to bed, Hahaha!
I spent a few hours getting the blog prepped, and I made some quote tabs to use on CorelDraw. When I nipped to the fridge to see what was available to quench my sudden hunger and thirst… there was nothing! How had I let myself run so low? I blame only one person and one thing, the person, is undoubtedly me, is the thing! I’ll have to make an order for next week to be delivered, Sainsbury’s methinks.
I got the final vegetables sorted and chopped up and into the pan of the cooking Chilli-Con-Carne. It was looking okay, and after a spoonful found its way to my lips, I declared it as being Josie-ably tasty! I nipped back to the computer to get some prep work done on that. and plan to return to the cooking to stir things a bit regularly. But I got carried away, so I had to get a move on… What a plonka! But it got worse! After a few minutes, I’d got the nosh for Josie on the tray. Took this photo of the repast. The usual bowl and a potfull of chilli for her to have tomorrow as well, some drinkies from the fridge, cheese, marshmallows and a few extras on the tray. Off to Josie’s door to deliver it, on time again, of course.
As she opened the door and said straight away: “There’s more than ever this time, Gerry! It dawned on why I’d made so much. I was going to have the Chilli as well, but somehow I forgot and gave it all to Josie. Ah, well, it’ll last her for three meals now. Hahaha! Josie seemed pleased enough with it. I wished the gal good eating, came back into the flat and promptly cursed my stupidity! I did some work on this blog, and then I had a look in the freezer. Aha, fish and chips? That’s what I’ll have then. Got it sorted, and in the oven cooking, the writing was too small to read. so I guessed at the time needed. I assumed it would be around 40 minutes. Then a brainstorm forced me to mop the kitchen…
Oh, dearie me…
Got back to check on the food, and it was looking good. Notice, I did not say it tasted good… It tasted truly crap; I was puzzled at how foul the NoFish fish tasted!
I put the pots in the sink to soak, returned to the chair, and got down to get some much-needed sleep – so I put the TV on; that usually helps me nod off. And did this time for once. But I was in desperate need of some. Over two hours later, I was rude;y awakened from my slumber as the night Carer arrived. She looked a little down and tired, so I had a chat and cheered her up a bit. She was well-impressed with her treat, a bottle of Tequila beer from the fridge. But didn’t take the waste bag with her to the chute for me. Humph! Hehehe! Can’t imagine what I’d been doing in the sleep to cause this on my arm? I got the magnifying glass out for a closer, Sherlock Holmesian-style investigation into the mystery. But it was no good; the glass did not help me see any clearer. So, I ytied a few pairs pf the old spectacles; the black ones helped a little. I’d got a spotty rash coming up the arm, and a some beneath my man-breasts too? Mmm? Another of mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!
I had a peep out of the kitchenette window, it was not raining, and the roads had dried of the residue. Seeing this road reminded me of an article I’d read on the YourArea website about the Grove. So I looked on the map to get its name for us. As you see, it was Applewood Grove. No crime reported in 2021? Even we at Winwood Court Independent Living, for the aged, managed about eight reports? Hehe! Then, around midnight, I took this somewhat pathetic photo of the evening view. Even I could see on the camera screen that it was not going to come out very well. It turned out that I’d moved the view mode selector in the wrong direction, and I’d put it on video instead of Auto? Writing this made me realise I’d written an ideal description for my life: ‘Gone in the wrong direction!’
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It’s true, Today is Tomorrow, or say… Alternatively, Tomorrow could be, Today, Neither could be both, whichever way, Unless you just wait until the following day… I suppose you think I’m mad, straightaway?
At times my mind tends to drift far away, Or I’ll not know if it’s Monday or Tuesday… This often happens on Friday, actually… But the brain is working fairly well, unusually, I’ll try not to topically lose it or fade away… For I have thoughts to share today… That may seem to you partly disillusionary, But it may clarify our vocabulary and ancestry!
I believe that time has been too discretionary, “Standard time” in effect for a shrinking portion yearly,
Daylight saving time, controlling the clock monthly, Lawmakers have extended summertime schedule, surely… Clock changes vary, with locations yearly… Consequently, the time differences will have to vary… Between regions, to understand it can send you silly!
Clocks, time changes, and days are not like a barometer… Mankind toys with time, but are they right or full of blatter? The world will soon be ending, so does it matter? There will be no humans to worry about hereinafter… No money to steal, no murderers, no laughter, It’ll no longer be a disgrace to be a grammaticaster!
We have changed so much, without knowing… Or caring for any costs in life and consequences, Again, the ‘Lord’ is not revealing… Although his Fathers and Priests are appealing… The well-off are revelling… The poor are trembling and dying, Politicians, Bankers constantly fiddling and lying! Scum balls murdering, mugging and burgling…
Firebombing, divorcing, schemozzling, little elutriating!
So time means… almost nothing,
Earth’s final moments are here, thanks to the Kremlin,
And people throwing recyclables in the dustbin…
We’re killing more people now than Nazi Berlin,
You’ll have paid for your pension and coffin…
But fret not; hope lies with a clever boffin!
Working on a time machine, so we can go back in time…
Preferably to a time before cybercrime,
Where workers were paid overtime!
Murderers were duly hung and did no more crime!
When folks knocked on doors and did not press a battery-powered chime!
Thus saving future generations would that be benign?
Note that this option would not be sublime…
For two reasons that come to mind!.
Who do you think would get to travel back in time?
Only the rich, politicians, and or the bosses of crime!
Earth of the future may soon design…
Another machine to travel through time…
They may go back to your current placing?
Having loaded nuclear weapons before leaving…
We’ll soon have time-machines to and fro racing…
And in the turmoil of war, wanting to be leaving…
Will be earlier time travellers, needing bullet-proofing…
God may send his lad down for some investigating…
I can hear him now “What the hell have you been doing?”
If you can get the chance, you’ll travel back to now…
Chances are, you can start again. but I’m not sure how,
Cause the time will have changed somehow?
Life may have restarted: a few cavemen on earth now?
Show them a torch, and they’ll kowtow,
Get to know them, have a powwow…
Soon, of profits, you’ll begin to think!
And suddenly put up with the cavemen’s stink,
Invent money, sell them coats, strip a mink,
Flog them an insurance policy and glasses if they wink,
Get them working cheaply, so they don’t get skint,
Build an army, police force, and a clink!
Mind you, I have to say…
More time travellers could arrive any day…
You must stop them, find a way…
If you can’t, alackaday… Today can be Tomorrow or Tomorrow Today!
Not in too much detail early one. I fear time was against me today, getting things sorted out for the trip to the EENT Hospital in the morning.
My first thought was I wanted to go back to sleep and had an extreme disinterest in getting up. But a wet warm sensation from the rear end encouraged me to clamber out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and off to the wet room tp check things out. En route further enlivened me. I messed and Pottered about getting confused and self-hassled. I stirred back into imitation life around 05:50hrs.
True to his promise, Carer Richard arrived dead on 06:00hrs. He was pleased that I knew which day it was. I remembered what it was that Jillie asked me to ask Richard! The Blood Pressure’s SIA caught me out at 166. The DIA at 98, both too high that by a fair bit. However, the pulse and body temperatures were honky-dory! I entered the figures into the NHS site to see what they make of it. Oh, I see; this was the result. Not a good start, methinks. You know, it’ll be back down in the morning. Or not, of course, there is always that possibility. Let’s face it, with my record, anything is possible. (As I hope you’ll read about later, when I was in the ambulance, Hehehe!) It was a humorous yet embarrassing incident that failed to bring any laughter to the ambulance man & woman, but things were not going well for them.
I made a start on this blog; to get as far as I could with it, just in case the operation was done and I’d incapacitated by blindness (It wasn’t done as it happens, but more about that later). Of course, the wee-wees started coming, weak sprinkly affairs, but each one was leaking before its time! So, on the third or fourth burst, I decided to get the ablutions done and replace the PPs with thicker, more efficient Tena ones. Even if they do stick out a little prominently under the trouser’s rear-end. I also stopped drinking any more spring water; I feared all the immanent waiting about at the hospital may produce leakages! Hehe! On with the scrubbing-up, I ventured. As you can see, there were a couple of nicks while shaving. One on the cheek, the other on the left ear-hole tab-hole. Nowt serious, though. I missed cleaning the teggies altogether – no idea why; Dementia Doreen I should blame. Then some niftily quick, which brought out more bleeding; From Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I had no trips or walking into anything or tumbles.
Still no sign of transport, and it’s getting late. So, as the beautiful morning view of the skies caught my eye, I thought I’d take a couple of shots of it with the Canon camera. I did as soon as I found out where I’d put the camera for the trip to the hospital. It took some finding, and as for the sunglasses, it’s evening now, and I still haven’t found them! Hehehe! I took another shot below, showing the parked cars on Chestnut Way. An incredible view, which I am pleased to have here at the flats. Strange that all the red vehicles seem to be avoiding this part of the site’s parking zones today? Haha! Whites, grey and blacks only? There’ll be a reason for this. I suppose. I made sure all the stuff was saved, and I shut down the computer. Then sat on a chair near the door so I didn’t miss the intercom if it rang… clever stuff, I thought? Well, for me! It’s set on the highest level available, but many folks have said they cannot hear it, so I’m not on my own. A clever move there on behalf of the Nottingham City Homes planners, ensuring that it is suitable for a block of flats with 70, 80, and 90+-year-olds living in it. Similar to the finger-strapping metal spring clips on the end balcony windows… Oh, and balcony slide doors, apart from the few that have fallen off the runners when used. Not only mine but others too. And they are cumbersome, too, I can assure you. Any injuries have been well hidden. You can see my mind wandering while waiting for the lift. Hehe!
Aha, the intercom buzzed. I’d everything ready so as not to keep them waiting. A dingle crewed chap, who told he was pleased I was all-prepared; because he’d been running late all morning. We picked up an elderly lady in Woodthorpe en route. We tried to have a natter in the back of the ambulance, but we struggled with hearing each other. Pleasant lady, going to the same place, EENT, I think.
I realised when I ferreted through my pockets and trolley that my plans had not gone to plan. I assume the sunglasses, bobble hat, and wristwatch were still on the Carer’s table back at the flat.
We were soon at the QMC EENT unit. The driver took me in first, explaining to the lady that on his own, he can only take in one person at a time. I bade farewell to the lady, wishing her all the best, and hobbled into the integral unit, led by the driver. Who ascertained that I had to go through to another block. Luckily he was still behind me when I got lost, and he corrected me, with a wry smile on his face, to the suitable unit. Haha! Where I waited to be seen.
A lady called out my name, and she took me through to yet another place, where I waited again. Minutes later, another lady fetched me and took me to her treatment room. Oh, yes, ladies are desperate for me! This happens all the time, you know…
I found out that the paperwork was wrong, and today was not as it said; Not the operation, but more assessments and tests on the eyes. All of which I had on my last appointment? Fair enough, there were many different eye tests, intending to make the plastic cornea a different size to match my misshaped one, which may prove too difficult, making the operation impossible. Well, that cheered me up, no-end! An hour or so after getting the tests and questions, the kind lady walked me back to the correct reception, and she told the lady I needed transporting. (She didn’t say where to, Pluto perhaps? Hahaha!.
ODE TO THE WAIT
I got seated and began the marathon wait for transport, It wasn’t a quick wait… not short, But I made up a game for fun and sport… Counting patients, who arrived after me, made me haught… Who went before me, making me fraught…
The place cleared; have they forgotten about me, I feared? After three hours, I felt a bit weird… I’m not brave, a stalwart, but a worrywart, No one around to ask or to talk… Nothing occurring to which I could claught… Any hopes of a lift of any sort, Four hours later, relief from worry was bought,
Two medics arrived for me; I was overwrought,
To the ambulance, I did cavort,
But pleasure in it, that I can report…
Getting home left me despondent and taut!
Inside the ambulance was a stretcher. The male of the pair of medics said: We’ve got to collect someone else from the gynaecology Wing over the road. I waited so long that it didn’t bother me. The stretcher was unfastened, and off they went to collect their patient. I thought it a good idea to phone Jillie on my mobile while on my own. So, I did! To tell her to thank you, my honeypot, but the operation wasn’t done, so no need for your kind offer of coming to stay with me, as I can still see. Things didn’t pan out as I had wished. I got through to Jillie, and damned Peripheral Pete gave me an Involuntary right-leg Idiopathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance routine! Despite my having had the seatbelt buckled, I managed somehow to end up on the floor of the ambulance. I fumbled my way back into the seat and slid the belt back on before the medics got back, which was ten minutes late, with a young lady on the stretcher. As they wheeled her into the ambulance, and she padded me on the right side, I gave her a welcoming smile and unintentional wink from the bad eye. Thankfully she gave me such a sweet smile back… then! Bless her! I think it was her appreciation for someone smiling and talking to her, not at her.
The crew could not get the stretcher holder mechanism to reset or lock. Well, that’s all they seemed interested in as they repeatedly banged and pushed the trolley into the mechanism. I swear they never thought about the patient getting knocked all over as they did it. I asked the lady if she was alright and got dirty looks from Mork & Mindy for it. This made a temporary bond between the gal and me, I think.
The crew spoke to we patients, which was not often apart from talking between themselves. ‘We’ll have to get help cause we can’t get the stretcher to lock’ (You don’t say?) One of them fetched another paramedic who arrived to have a look, and he clicked it in the first time! Much to my and the lady’s relief! We tried to chat on the way, but hearing her was difficult with the engine and traffic noise, but she seemed to be feeling better.
They dropped me off after a cock-up that may have been mine, I’m not sure. I mentioned when they were looking for which block I live in, the end one. Then proceeded to explain why they could get confused, Winchester Court, Winwood Court, and Woodthorpe Court; all three are called Windwood Heights. Then the female told the driver to go back. He lives in Winwood! Which he did. I had to embarrassingly (if I had told them wrongly). That he was right, I do live at the end one… Oh, dear, if looks could kill, I’d have been a goner!
I wished the lady on the stretcher well. And gladly told the driver I could manage from here, with a weak ‘Thanks’ added. And turned to wave at the lady, I don’t know if she could see me, but I wanted to. Hope she got home without any more hassle, Bless her cotton socks! ♥
Home Sweet Home! The hat and sunglasses were where I thought I’d left them. I only noticed them glancingly in my haste to avoid any embarrassment on my way to the wee-wee room. I failed! So a good start to my evening’s plans! I had a good clean-up, and I got some fresh PPs on. The Tena ones I was wearing had done a good reliable job in the containment stakes.
Made a brew and got the computer on to do this blog. And the landline burst forth. It was the Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic nurse, wanting to know if the following Monday would be alright for them to call to take the blood test. Hah! I had to tell her that it was the Cataract appointment day. She will ring me back the day before she comes. Thinking about it afterwards, it might prove problematic if she is going to call Tuesday, wonnit? Just my luck!
The sunshine was still bright. I took a shot through the balcony windows. bootiful sky again!
Joe the Carer arrived, and I started to tell him about the farcical day. But, to avoid him falling to sleep, I cut it short. Hehehe! Gave him a cold bottle of Coots from the fridge, which he appreciated.
A long hard slog of blogging ensued.
Around five hours or so, I did stop for the occasional wee-wee. Several in fact, it’s a miracle I got through all that time at the hospital without needing one – another mystery of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. Worry and confuse me! Crafty that! Cunningly this time, using a bit of good luck for me thrown in the mix. Veggie burgers (The last, I hope to get some on the next Morrison order, as Iceland were out of stock, Humph!) Tomatoes, garden peas, beetroot, gherkins, and that’s yer lot! A late, late supper instead of a dinner.
Belated food, then bed, and prayer that the day’s events don’t kick off a thought-storming session and stop me sleeping – PLEASE!
Due to Trotsky Terence causing me hassle and pain, The Porcelain Throne visits happened again & again… Dementia Doreen made my concentration transmundane, I couldn’t find the camera, my language became profane, After hours, the location was successfully ascertained…
Some form of hope, I started to regain…
However, they soon went on the wane…
The camera’s SD card had disappeared again!
I searched for hours… no hopes remain…
Doreen Dementia… a permanent bane!.
On and off for a day, I was frantically searching…
Up and down, my emotions ever lurching…
From never-mind to self-hating…
At times, mentally self-fustigating,
My psychological state… was beyond interpreting!
Leaving no stone unturned, I again started SD card seeking,
No luck, so I sorted out the laundry tub to do the washing…
Found the card in my pyjama top’s pocket; amazing!
So turned my attention to sorting the grazing…
I rather enjoyed this vegetarian noshing,
I found myself doing an awful lot of belching?
Fell asleep, to wake up and extrapolating,
Sorting the world out… hypothesising,
Starting with how to stop the MP’s hornswoggling,
But soon found this was too mind-boggling!
Checked on the plates and pins state…
They looked a lot better today, mate!
Nice, when I find summat to appreciate!
One day, I hope to see a little less weight…
A dream, more than a thing to anticipate!.
Better tend to my mornings ablutioning,
Cleaned the teeth, then on to shaving,
Had an excellent slow, steady session of showering,
Then on to the uncomfortable medicationalisationing…
I dried off, oiled and rinsed each earhole first,
Little Inchies fungal lesion done, with a blood-thirst,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids… painfully the worst!
Eye drops, mainly missing, Tsk! A curse!
Accifaupas dressing, an accidental photographing…
Dropped the camera, no damage, so not too vexing,
So, I took another of me posing…
This one came out to my liking,
Found a shot of Ice-cream that’s Vegan…
I added some sprinkles, to it…
It gave the bad tooth some jip!
Amongst the contents are turnip?
I’m not bothered, I loved it!
The Blood pressure was well high…
The Body temperature is nigh on perfect!
Morning Car Park Piccies!
This morning’s waking view,
The Porcelain Throne needed going to…
I hit my shoulder as I was going through…
On the doorframe, I think I said thank you,
To Shaking Shoulder Shirley, too!
The evening dawns, is that the right word?
Not that anyone will be bothered…,
Cause later on,
I took these that outshone…
Nicer coloured, better favoured!
Then this beauty, later on
FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD
And used it to make this super meal
The highlight was the vegan burgers, each eaten
twixt two slices of Milk Roll bread. The fresh
garden peas, tomatoes, and baby new
potatoes tasted excellent!
A pot of jelly & custard, and delightful
lemon mousse, to round it off! GORGEOUS! Flavour Rating: 8.5/10
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
My mentality is being steamrollered,
My aims and intentions are steered,
I lose control, it’s time that I surrendered,
Unless I can get help… my brain mended…
My dreams are black & white, yet multi-coloured.
Ideas, plans destroyed or embroidered…
At their conception, logic was avoided,
Minimal new memories are remembered
Dark thoughts are often harboured…
But shortly, into the ether, they are melted,
Intentions and aims cannot be deciphered…
And I made them, I’m just dumbfounded…
Over nothing, I can get easily flustered,
When aims and fears amass and get clustered…
Which reminds me, I must get some mustard!
Richard goes the extra mile in looking after me, you see…
He’s called paramedics to the hospital he dispatched me.
Found me on the floor, lifted me up; and I’m heavy!
He’s reduced the effects of my Whoopsiedangleploppery!
After giving me my medications, if he’s the time, to which I agree…
We sometimes have a bit of mental verbal buffoonery,
Monday, checking the dates on medications, was he…
Richard saw on the stove my pan of Chilli,
He suggested a new way of cooking, which sounded good to me!
Told me with cheese on top, it would be very tasty,
So, I made some that way later and could not disagree,
It tasted better than a well-cooked sosatie.
Ate it, felt sated, down the chair – I’ve not got a settee…
But with my feet up, I settled to watch the footy on ITV…
Half-time, I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea…
Getting the cup and washing up the cutlery…
Oh, dear, the innards suddenly rumbled – but only weakly…
The rear end just started to emit things terribly…
I rushed to the Porcelain Throne in a hurry… but I was too late!
Banged my shoulder on the door frame going in, mate!
What a mess; I was in a right mucky state…
Cleaned things and me up, new aerated PP’s on, to alleviate…
Sad when one has an uncontrollable trip to defecate…
At least the shoulder I didn’t dislocate!
Out and back to the kitchenette for the brew,
And immediately another churning, another release was due!
Back to the Porcelain Throne, I almost flew!
A bigger mess this time, sticky goo!
Good job, I made it in time, I can tell you!
Cleaned and washed, and back on the flaming loo!
After five more Throne visits, each one causing ballyhoo…
Things settled at last; in future, Chilli, I’ll have to eschew!
I’ll have some home-made beef stew,
Oh, no beef, summat else will do…
Ah, the Vegan beefburger tonight; the risks should be few
Hoping there’ll be no trouble with the residue!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
All fine that night, I woke up feeling refreshed and pert,
This morning as I stood up, the Haemorrhoids hurt,
The borborygmus rumbled, and to the Porcelain Throne I stumbled,
An hour later, I’d passed at least six times… my spirits crumbled…
Each evacuation was a close call, as I rushed and fumbled…
My poor piles were stinging and battered; they itched!
Uh-oh! The last one sneaked out early; I had to ventilate…
It seemed the pong was worse by a hundredfold,
Finally, I got the escapees under control…
That leaves Carer Richard this morning, who needs to be told…
A warning of his recipe given, especially to the thick & old…
That eating it, diarrhorea would be empowered!
Richard arrived, I told him of my Chilli agony, and he was unflustered!
Laughter flowed from the lad, totally unhindered…
No guilt, no shame… Never seen the lad so cheery…
He suggested I get a new nappy!
Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve never ever seen Richard laugh out loud and so hard! I think his mood was as near to schadenfreude as one can get. Even amid my agonies and Trotsky Terence’s having a hay-day with my innards and the Protection Pant stocks running desperately low…, it cheered me up to have made him so happy and contented. It did as much good as any medications.
With a possible hint of epicaricacy creeping in there… Hahaha!
Last evening’s photographicalisations were, to me, some of the best I’ve managed to take. How the shaking and shuddering (apart from the right shoulder Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) had suddenly dried up was something of a minor miracle? However, as I was closing the windows after taking the pictures, they kicked off again, off course. But a nice two first-time shots? Ah, the rumbling innards have started off again, out of the blue. I made a speedy as I could lunge for the wet room, wary of Trotsky Terence’s grip on the innards. The evacuation was the smallest in days and more than capable of controlling. I remained sat where I was on the Throne and got the crossword book out. I was not going to get caught out like I have been so many times recently by needing another release minutes later. About five minutes later, the second lot came.
I had a shave and shower, and the ankle ulcer in this photo looked like a luminescent inner core? At least it did to my cataracted eyes. But it looked to the eyes as usual? If I remember, I’ll ask the evening carer to have a look. (I forgot to, Tsk!) . The body temperature was acceptable again. That’s several days on the trot, so things look good there. Shaking Shaun caused me to drop the thermometer, but it still works; phew! The Sys was still highish, the DIA lowish, and the Pulse was AOK! Overall, I was tempted to go into Smug-Mode, but I remembered last week… I declined! That was when the SYS went up to 174 for one day, then down to 123?
I had a look at the food situation in the fridge. There seemed plenty to do me over the weekend, and the freezer was pretty full, so I decided no food order was needed until next week! Yes! I made a decision…me! I made one in 1968 as well, you know. Then made another one! I had a long chinwag with the family. Gave each one a mini cuddle and had a few words with each of them. ♥ All donated by e-friends, Lisa, Pattie and Marie; thank and bless them!
I had a walk down to the ground floor, using the lift, of course. And started to have a hobble the length of the three blocks of flats, to come out from Winchester Court and hobble along Chestnut Way back to my beloved Woodthorpe Court… but… An urgent need suddenly needed! So I doubled back and got to the Throne in time to avoid any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleploppery! Which was good!
Washed and got a snap of the end car park taken from the balcony. What happened with this terrible photo? I took it without thinking through the glass; I didn’t open the window. Wot a pillock! So I did a better shot from the other end of the balcony, of the view towards Nottingham City Centre, two miles away. Then got a late nosh sorted out. Veg & pickle balls, with added caramelised onion chutney, tomatoes, chips and my beloved raw, fresh pod peas. I had three little marshmallows for my make-do dessert. I would have had some yoghourt or lemon mousse, but Iceland and Sainsbury’s didn’t have any in stock – Grumph!
So, there it is! A day of misery, defeatism, joy, laughter and utter confusion- just a typical day for Inchcock! Cheers!
Visitors to Nottingham, please take care, They’ll be violence, so please be aware, Knifings, we’ve more than our fair share, Murderers, muggers, things are austere!
At night, folks go out for fun and cheer… They’ll drink anything, gin, absinthe or beer, Then they’ve no inhibitions, nothing to fear, Until they start to feel odd and queer?… Drugged without knowing it, poor dear!
Club girls may get spiked and get dizzy and quave, Mugged, car stolen, or kidnapped and used like a slave… You can get your pocket-picked on roads and alleyways… Molesting, stabbings, shootings, anytime or ways… Not many policemen around to help nowadays!
If you’ve been to Nottingham before, had a few stays, You’ll be able to vaticinate our criminality & illegal ways, But Nottingham has some things worthy of praise… I’ll think of something one of these days… Oh, and we have many prison breaks, escapes and runaways!
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Inchcock’s Local News Snippets
15 years for manslaughter for McGhee?
Life for the other two scumballs, see?
Killer Cox got life; in ten years, he was set free!
The Justice system is crap.. clearly…
Bet they’ll all be out again to murder freely…
No justice in this; they’ve been sentenced improperly…
Life should be for life, not released early!
Parole is cheaper for HMG, evidently…
129 criminals have been freed (UK) to kill again, freakily!
It’s the Judges and Parole Board that are guilty!
Fourteen pathetic months! Are the Judge and or Lawyers taking bribes or just the piss! Weapons, drugs, abuse, ignoring the court’s restraining order… already committed 33 offences, and the namby-pamby on the bench slaps his wrist? Is he supplying the inept, corrupt, guilty, ‘Free murderers to kill again’ Parole Board and other officials with drugs then? Grant will undoubtedly be able to build a reserve stock of cheap drugs while he’s inside. He’ll doubtless be freed in six months maximum to attack the lady again… Justice in the hands of cowards!
It seems that Nottingham’s cowardly bullies are turning their attention to easier targets nowadays. Old folk. Time for us old un’s to get tooled up – like the murderers who get life in prison and are freed by the shit-headed, ‘They didn’t mean it’ Parole Boarders a few years later to kill again… But no, better not, if we were to do that and we shot a mugger, we’d get sent down for longer than murderers do. Of course, gang-landers do have the advantages of having the drugs, young ladies and cash to back-hand the (A member working 115 days would be likely to receive between £30,000 to £40,000) murderer-freeing Parole Boarders. Just a thought!
Nine years for a brutal killer? Another pathetic sentence?Might be a good idea to let him board with his Parole Officer when he gets out in four years?
Tried and sentenced at last. Five years & nine months, plus an eight-month concurrent sentence for fraud. Nice!
I imagine that Daniel is laughing all the way to this prison after getting this sentence? He’ll be out within 7 months, I reckon?
At least they are keeping the crud-nuts in custody!
I looked in the mirror last night; a terrible sight! It was as if I’d been battered in a fistfight, Blotches, pale eyes, a depression, it did incite… How do I get into this mentally-inspired plight? The physical ailments, I’m coping with them alright… Although some of them can at times be a fight… Cataracts, neuropathy, deaf, etc. have ruined my rike, I’ve no confidence left; I feel like a troglodyte!
Was my being born an accident or oversight? Mother ran away, was the start of my many a fike… In social interactions, at 76, I’m still a neophyte… Which doesn’t explain why my eyes and skin are so white? The red patches remind me of the pox and bryophyte… But I’m going to stop worrying… well, I might… Things come to me, ailments, fears and many a blight… What future I’ve left is not looking too bright!
I need to do something, like mind-defragging, Free the tension, keep the tongues from wagging, Cause it’s no use hiding and camouflaging… My failures, incompetency and my not belonging! My faults in the future, I’ll be acknowledging, I’ll start with cutting out the foul language and effing… Cut down my time blogging and cybersurfing! From overeating, I’ll start abstaining, Why do all that, you may be asking? I can’t remember now, and that’s alarming!
YOU CAN TELL HE IS CHEERING UP A BIT, CAN’T YOU
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Friday 27th May
04:30hrs: I woke with the usual jump but soon regained all possible control (Which was not a lot) of my brain. And responded niftily to the call from Bladder Blair for a wee-wee.
Washed and made a brew of Thompsons’ Signature tea. Got on the computer and started to get the photos on.
These on the right are from last evening after I’d got the nosh consumed and settled down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.
But I kept getting up again to photograph the sky.
Resettled but dozed for half an hour and shot wide awake again. Humph!
And the glow from the sky was coming through the curtain. I just had to, and I did, get up yet again to take these three pictures on the left of the evening late sunsetting.
These were a lot more colourful than the earlier ones.
The first one I took and made was while making a brew of Glengettie tea. By the time I’d made the mug, the rain had stopped, and the whole sky had changed colour with some interesting orange-hued puffer clouds near the horizon.
Mother nature never seems to stop amazing me.
I started to update the Wednesday/Thursday blog. Then within minutes, I had to return to the wet room, in need of the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!
A messy Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation again, but not as bad as yesterday. Not one of my better ones! I opted to get the ablutions done while I was in there.
The teeth bled; I dropped the razor and banged my shoulder on the sink, bending down to retrieve it. Then proceeded to give me several cuts shaving, under the chin, the ear-hole, and…wait for this… my left index finger! Then as I looked in the shaving mirror as I was cleaning it, I saw the blotches all over my face! Worra state! And the eye sockets looked proper pink?
Carer Valerie arrived. She got the medications sorted out, and we managed a little natter between us. And Val took the laundry with her and the waste bag, saying as Arni did… “I’ll be back!” Hehe!
I went back onto the blog and got it finished and posted off. Pinterested some photos and got on Facebook catch-up.
Then the Amazon Morrison order arrived. A lovely foreign lady, polite and sociable gal, bless her cotton socks. Three items were out of stock. And the onion chips were substituted with curry chips. Not sure that I will be keen on them, but, you never know, they might taste alright for me. At least I got the red potato fritters and one of the three battered chips I wanted.
Then, I got the things sorted and stored. There didn’t seem much to go in the freezer, which was just as well cause there was no room in the drawers anyway. I did get a loaf of bread in.
The fridge didn’t look anywhere as near full as usual after a delivery? Was I getting good and ordering less?
Well, no, not really. Why the heck I ordered a packet of Thompson’s Signature tea bags? I don’t know. I’ve got six packages of Thompson’s Punjana, two of J Sainsbury Red label extra strong, and a box of Glengettie in stock already? Oh, and a bix of Co-op 99 as well!
I got the flower treats that should have been coming on Monday for today. My EQ told me to. There will be something occurring on Monday medically, mayhaps, he tells me? I rang Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell her they were here, and when she came later, she kindly took a bunch to Francis for me. I can’t recall their names, but there were two different types. She had a choice of whichever she fancied.
I returned to finish off the Facebooking and then comments on WordPress. I got a call from my precious Hristina, the Warfarin DVT blood nurse; she will be calling twixt 10-1200hrs on Monday for the following test sample. I added it to the Google calendar. Got the Blood Pressure figured out. A bit high this morning. But this does happen now and then; it may have been with me hearing Hristina’s voice?
The body temperature was low, but nowt to worry about.
Carer Valerie returned the laundry for me. Thanked her, and off she went. I visited the junk room to hang the clothes. I was disappointed in the state of the jammie bottoms, all creased up, one leg inside out. One long-sleeved tee shirt was the same with the arms. The trousers were crunched up and creased. I must try to get Meridian to stop doing the washing for me… and paying them!
The tap tapping and noises that sounded like something metal-like being dropped kicked off. Still, he’s been quiet up till now.
Made an order for Iceland next week. Then got the nosh sorted. Oh, Boy, were those curried potato chips tasty! Yes, they were! Buttered mushroom pate sarnies, gherkins, red and orange tomatoes. A banana to follow and a worthy 8.3/10 for taste! Lovely!
I got settled to await the arrival of the evening carer, who was a smidge late, not that it mattered. I started to watch a Heartbeat episode, and every few minutes, I’d nod off for a couple of minutes, wake up, and off again. Most aggranoying, as I’d not seen this episode before. Tsk!
The evening carer arrived, medicated me, and asked if the laundry was ready to collect. I said that Valerie had done it this morning. A nibble and can of plonk were selected, and she took the waste bag with her.
Locked the door and got settled to watch the second episode of Heartbeat on the box. But, No! I kept nodding off again and shooting awake after a few minutes, only to drift off again and repeat the procedure?
Somehow I did manage to nod off, but it was hours later.
My much blotchy pot-marked face, A sign of age, rotting and decays? To be expected, I think nowadays… Like wee-weeing in spurts and sprays. Or losing memories that fade and stray… Along with confusing, baffling thought waves… Needing a kip each day, before midday… Recalling when one was alive, in one’s heyday, You’re looking towards the next pension day, Coping with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley… Deaf, cataracts, depression Monday to Sunday…
My excrescences, give me haute couture, If that’s the word, I’m not really sure… I wonder if the Tate would make a sculpture? I’d like to be a giver, cheerer-upperer, enricher… Or an MP, maybe even a frontbencher? Perhaps best, if I stay as this demented old failure, Although I’m sadly an incompetent botcher… A harmless old fart who’s into pareidolia… Awaiting St Peter’s greeting as he says, ‘Gotcha!’ Possibly, my brain may have caught paranoia?
Approached creating this ode quite guiltily… My ideas for it were whimsical, bonkers, delusionary… I pressed on all the same, but involuntarily… For Alto-Inchy was taking the piss at me, If it comes out passable, I’ll have to be lucky… So, I hope to avoid getting any vilipendency! Will it get boos? Or be received gladly? Here I go… I’ll have to wait and see…
Last night’s Porcelain Throne visit showed sanguinolency, I had to clean things quickly, with no time to dilly-dally. Cleaned, medicated the fungal lesion, piles, cuts, that’s three… Pain, medicating the lesion send me cranky, And Harold’s Haemorrhoids too, it took me a while, Good job that I’ve got many a mans-nappie!
It’s Alto Inchie writing this verse; Inchcock did insist!
But, things got nasty for Inchy, the lyricist…
Stubbed his toe and started to update his word list…
He spent many hours on it, needed a wee, but had to desist…
Went to hit the save icon, and I missed…
Lost the file, and he sank to his saddest…
He almost cried; it must have been hard to resist…
Then he sank further and got depressed!
I lost six hours trying to get back my lost writing… Couldn’t find it; I was confused, lost and dithering, My previous determination started withering… Duodenal Donald kicked off; it was appalling, The whole incident was depressing and galling! I believe that I was so low, beyond consoling… I wondered, what’s the next thing that’ll need bungling?
Alto Again: It was sad to see Inchy being nigglier,
His computer works are getting much messier…
He didn’t look well. He seemed to me pastier…
The outlook for him to finish this ode is murkier,
And even he’s not usually a shirker, but a worker…
I can see in his eyes that he’s getting lower…
No point in talking to him until he feels betterer,
Hello, his door chimes rang out, in came a Carer…
He turned sourly around to see who it was, looking peakier,
His face lit up, his smile radiated, for it was Carer Sarah!
I could tell that he’d immediately got feeling friskier!
It was Carer Sarah who came to do me today, This cheered me up, I have to say… I lost all signs of acting acidulously… Lovely gal, pretty and chatty, I began to feel once again, altruistically, I hope she comes again on Sunday!
Alto: Inchie knackered his computer and got in a shaking panic,
The idiot’s actions and bungled repairs were catastrophic,
He had trouble concentrating and was mnemic…
His moods all day were somewhat chameleonic.
Inchcock’s plans and thoughts were all semantic…
Yet he seemed to be taking it all phlegmatic…
In fact, he ended up feeling somewhat apathetic?
Then he found his legs had gone all phlebitic!
This is why some folks, quite rightly, consider him pilgarlic!.
Diary Saturday 14th May 2022
05:00hrs: I woke up with my bum half off of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. The right leg on the floor, the left one on the arm of the recliner? A position that I could not physically get into on my own, even if someone offered me a million pounds to do it? Painfully I got my bum back up on the cushion, then tackled the left leg retrieval task! Have you seen that programme on the telly Truck Hell, where they have to retrieve HGVs after a crash? That’s like the task I had on.
I got it freed and the foot down on terra firma. Hehehe! It took me half an hour to achieve it.
Then, I noticed the right leg only had suffered a vein explosion. The first photo is of the front of the leg. I had a good look at it. There were no pains from the veins. Then I wondered about the back of the right leg. Got the Canon camera again and took a blind picture.
Aha, more veins showing through? On a closer look at the photograph, later on, it looked to me that last time, the surgeon who did them had left his name tattooed on the leg? Hehe! I’ll put this one on more prominent than usual to see what you think. It’s on the top right of the picture. Wonder what it is?
Ah, well, better get up; the Carer may be calling soon… and…
As I stood up to catch my balance, I knocked the camera off of the ottoman. I went into the bathroom to ready things for the ablutioning later on, and took this snap of the new marks on the face, this time! Then tried to take another snapshot of the morning view, but the camera didn’t have it. Sob!
It seemed to take the photo, but nothing was getting put on the SD card to view, other than this one and the legs? Miffed off, now! Another blog without many pictures, Humph!
I made up some waste bags, mashed a brew and got on the computer. And the morning carer appeared without ringing the buzzer and made me jump. Haha! Carer Sara was a pretty young thing, and she was sociable. ♥
On with the blog. I finished the update two hours later and posted it on Facebook. Went on Facebooking. Then the WP Reader, and comment reading and replying to.
The usual for the weekend. An increase in Herbert’s noise level. On and off all day, at times, I thought he must have hurt himself with the clanging and banging. At times, I could hurt him myself!
Got on with the Ode template for Saturday’s blog. But a disaster befell me…
I used two pages of saved words on Notepad and got on with selected suitable or better options. And the Peripheral Pete’s Neurotransmitters failed, as Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked in simultaneously. There was controlling my movements at all.
The arm shot across the keyboard with the left clicker pressed firmly down, hitting various keys as it went to my left, knocked the SD reader flying as the connector broke off, and it was all over in seconds, but it did a lot of damage, and worst of all, I lost all my words in the two files!
I then spent the following hours of the day trying to understand what the warning messages that came up meant and trying everything within my limited knowledge to find the missing files. No such luck! Photos not going on again.
Made a large meal and ate it all. Wee-wee. Carer Valerie called. Head down, but foolishly tried to watch a Dirty Harry film on the box… I did, in a way, but in about 25 episodes, I watched one each time I woke up and nodded off again!