Inchcockski – Tue 4th Aug 2020: Ended up with an involuntary Neuropthic leg dance, that had me in a heap on the floor! Tsk!

TFZer, dancing at the Cool-It-Cabin!

Tuesday 4th August 2020

Croatian: Utorak, 4 Kolovoza 2020. Godine

00:05hrs: I made a template for tomorrow, then started this blog off for the day.

The piles were still very tender from the earlier mammoth, excruciating Porcelain Throne visit! That will stay with me until the end of my days! Argh! So bad was their stinging, that I stopped computerisationing, and went and got some Germoloid onto Harold’s Haemorrhoids, gave them another clean-up, and a good creaming. Ahh, that’s a bit better, no, much betterer. Haha! 

I sent the Email link off for yesterday’s post. Then went on the WordPress Reader.

I was making the tea, again, when the OPorcelaio… Porcelain Throne Alarm arrived. (Sorry about that, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters and Suddering-Shoulder-Shirley clandestinely decided on a sudden joint attack), the innard’s Throne-Alarm arrived. So, off to the wet room.

Trying to find a one-word description of this session was easy today. AGONY! What the hell caused this imitation blackened hazelnuts-like evacuation to give me such pain, I don’t know. But poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids, are in even more discomfort now! It was a slow, no-control-over grind! I just don’t know if taking Macrogol, will help or hinder the situation?

My being a well known, much-mocked and laughed at tergiversator, procrastinator, and a well-intentioned, senility-seeking old fart, but lacking commitment, who over-worries, and at times, is scared to opt for, make a choice or decision, I despair about this! Never used to like it?

Belatedly, I meandered to the kitchen to get the medications and Health-Checks done.

During the ten or fifteen minutes I was in the kitchen, I took some shots of roughly the same view, they made up an interesting little montage, showing how quickly the morning was breaking, really early as well!

I went to the medical cupboard to get the blood pressure machine, and was it there? No!

No panicking, but plenty of confusion milled-about in the brain. I am sure that I put it back in the third drawer down, as I always do, yesterday. I was pretty confident I had, cause I can remember trapping my finger as I pushed the drawer to close it? I even had a look at the finger knuckle, and it was still a little marked?

I ferreted around in cupboards, shelving and the other drawers, but couldn’t find it yet! I took a moment or two and really had a good ponder over what I could remember of the incident. Then stared blankly out of the window, hoping for inspiration in recalling where I should, could, would, ought or might have put it.

I maintained my sanity, just. The EQ was telling me to forget it, “You’re bound to come across it later, there’s no rush, nobody is going to call to see you, you’ve nowt on order to come today, pull yersen together, make a brew and gerron wiv the blogging!” (My EQ and I, both speak with the same Nottingham accent, you know!) But moments later, the niggling botheration departed, as I had to, to the wet-room for another Porcelain Throne session! Argh!

As I hobbled on my way, caught my toes against the four-pronged metal walking stick and I cursed a smidge.  But no time for sulking, the Throne had to be used! At least all the signs told me so, but No!

I got in and on the Throne and minutes later, I reached for the crossword book. My poor confused-more-than-usual brain was still concerned with where I’d left the flipping hemadynamometer, and a grand total of nil, zilch clues were answered! I think the walnut-like lumps of evacuation material, must have gelled in the gut together like cement, for as hard as the innards and I tried there was moving it along! In some discomfort, I gave up and had a clean and freshening session. Hey,-ho! No bleeding though!

As I was leaving the wet room, it dawned on me I may not have turned the taps off properly (♫ It’s not unusual… ♫) and went back in to check them…

Oh dearie me, indeed! There on the shower chair, was the BP machine! Of course, then it all came back to me, Humph! I’d got a tiny cut on the knuckle when I closed the medical drawer, a wee-dram of blood had gone on the camera lens. And got the need for a wee-wee at the same time, and off I went to the wet room, to clean the camera and take a wee-wee. It’s all gin-clear now! I recall it in detail! Plonk-a-Whatta!

I got the ablutions tackled. And compared to yesterday, it was a great deal betterer! The dropsies were a lot worse mind, but no shaving cuts and medicalisationing went just fine.

The photo on the right is a bit of a mystery! It looks to me, like it was taken in the front room or kitchen, not the wet room? (All a part of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, 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 Lucifer, mission, “We must annoy, scare and piss-off the energumenist Inchcock, at all costs!’ mission?”

Then, off to get the much-belated sphygmomanometerisationing readings were done. The SYS was down ten points the Dia 12 points, and the Pulse down 6 points. 

Great readings this morning. Or is it afternoon now? Hahhaha!

I then got around to drying off, a bit of burlesque ensued, I’m afraid, here. 

I knocked so many items off of the floor cabinet with the first waft of the towel around my back! What a mess I did make! I spent ages getting in back into the same disorder it was all in before my Towel-Attack!

Got the new bigger Enoxaprin 100ml filled hypodermic, and it was soon injected and all done. A longer needle on these ones, but a piece of cake to inject. (That reminds me, I hope Iceland have some more of the apple pies in stock) for Friday, Haha!

I got the kettle on, and realised I’d been drinking tea on and off all morning? Why? ‘No idea!’ Fair enuf!

I got some vegetables prepped and into the crock-pot for later. Red onions, leeks and I can add a tin of peas later. 

Then I remembered I have the mushrooms in the fridge, so went to fetch them to, wash, slice and get them in the pot with the other veggies.

Opened the fridge door, and there the mushrooms weren’t! I had a dig around in the fridge, but nope, they were AWOL? I looked just about everywhere for them, silly places as well, without any luck.  I’ve bamboozled myself now! Twittle-Prone-Pillock!

I took three photographs of the view from the kitchen’s thick-framed, designed by someone who hates old people and photographers. Are impossible to get to for cleaning, without risking life & limb, climbing up the stepladders and down again. That’s obviously, only if you don’t fall off of steps, due to old age, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Cramps, Dizzy Dennis, Shuddering Shoulder-Shirley, Diabetes Insipidus, collapsing, Vertigo,  Saccades Sandra, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitter failure, or you get an involuntary Stroke affected right leg’s Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine kick-off, and topple you off the ladder, and break your neck..Where was I? Oh, yes, the photos!

I took the first picture in Auto mode, the second in Landscape, the last one was taken using the Aperture Priority setting. Do you think one of them, is better than the other two? Thank you. 

Oh, ‘ecky thump! A triple ailment onslaught nearly had me over! Shaking Shaun, Saccades, and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley amalgamated to put the wind up me! They did a good job, too. This put end to any computerising, and I got the nosh sorted straight away; because I feared a bad spell coming.

The concentration and focus failed, and I had to do my best to concentrate. I got my meal served up alright. But what a mess I was leaving in the kitchen. Got down to eat the repast, no taste rating, because I felt only half-with it. I didn’t eat it all.

I managed to do the pot washing, amidst a messy maze of cooking residues, that my mind didn’t seem to want to know anything about? (I now know I didn’t take any medications).

I can’t even recall getting down in the recliner? But woke up later, with a persistent panicky niggle, that I’d left the tap running? I stupidly got up and went to check, without the stick… the mind full of ackamarackus.

As I was going through the kitchenette door, a sudden short sharp (catching me by surprise) involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance had me over, landing against the counters doors, arm outstretched to ease the inevitable effects of the tumble. (Photoed later)

I remember the fall and collision as my overweight body banged into the cupboard handle and sliding down to make contact with the floor! But nothing else until I woke up to find myself half-in-out of the c1968 recliner?

As endings to a day go, I could have done without this one. Hahaha!

Inchcockski – Sunday 2nd August 2020: A mixed bag of a day. Videlicet, up & down Sunday!

TFZ’s at the TFZers Cool-It-Hut!

Sunday 2nd August 2020 

Maori: Rātapu 2 Akuhata 2020

07:00hrs: I did wake up a few times earlier, but each time, there was no way I wanted to or could get up. I felt as if I’d only just got to sleep, when in fact, I been asleep for hours? I was so tired, still! With no demands for a wee-wee, making it easier for this old chap to nod-off again. Different, worrying, but a great experience! A little guilt perhaps, helped me to go into action mode.

I was up, and admiring my magnificently muscled, firm, fit, young, six-packed body, and caught my balance, within minutes. Ahem!

As I was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, when the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, with some urgency again. I hobbled carefully, but as swiftly as I dare, to the wet room. (To avoid any accidents or innards-controlled unexpected escapages). Arriving well in time!

There was a surprisingly long wait for the motion to begin. Plenty of time for me to access the crossword book, and fail to get a single clue solved. Humph!

The innards controlled evacuation began with a sudden bit of a rush, which caused a moment or two’s worth of Argh’s and wincing of the facial muscles (Hehehe!). Then lasted longer and slower than any evac. in months. I was worn out by the time it had finished! The Silver-lining were, only minuscule bleeding, not a messy affair, and the after-aroma was not too biliously pungent!

However, I lost a lot of time due to the cistern’s failure to clear the contents away again. Jugs of water, in between several flushes, had to be made. It’s still not all gone, I’ll have to keep returning and give it a flush every now and then, and hope for the best. What a palava!

I got the kettle on and took a couple of photographs from the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, unable to get at for the disabled tenants to clean windows. The first one, of below, the Woodthorpe Court car park on Chestnut Walk. Noticing the red sports car had returned. (That should please Kentuckian, Billumski!)

Then I thought I saw bats flying around. After various failed attempts to catch whatever they (2) were, I gave up altogether. Hehe!

Then, taking the medications and doing the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometer figures were healthier today.

Made the brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and to the computer, to make a start on this blog. I was about to start on it and remembered the WC flushing had to be checked on, so off to the wet room. One more flush, and it appears that the content had gone. But I know well, from the experiences of this mechanical-teaser, that it has a habit of regurgitating things, and when I go to utilise it again, I have to start the ‘Get-rid-of-it’ process again! So, I’ll recheck it again later on.

Finally, I got to start this blog off. And yet again, I had to hobble-off to the Porcelain Throne! A longer evacuation session this time. But I had some success with the crosswording, which was pleasing.

I had a wash, rinse, and teeth cleaning session while I was in there. And spotted just how bloodless the body was looking! Hogglesworthy!

As I was taking a photo through the balcony windows from the computer chair, I got a phone call from someone wanting to speak to Angie. I realised it must be for Angie and Roy from the top floor. Asked if she wanted me to take a message for them. The lady didn’t, apologised, and rang off.

I snapped the morning clouds in the sky (which I suppose is normal. Haha!).

Time to get Josie’s meal prepped. It was a bit of the struggle this Sunday, as Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley were both visiting me regularly. I pressed on, a slightly more complicated ‘Cheffing’ session, as well.

Skipjack Tuna flakes in brine, mixed with mayonnaise. Egg mayonnaise, gherkins, beetroot chunks with onion and balsamic vinegar, garden peas, tomatoes, surimi sticks, a bar of chocolate, an apple, and a limoncello dessert for her. Oh, and a can of pink gin & tonic. The fiddly prep work and the dropsies were trying. Yet, somehow or other, I got ita;; ready without a single bruising, cut, or any injuries! First-Class-mug Mode Engaged!

I wheeled it to her door, and we had a little chat, she gave me a packet of shortcake biscuits and again handed me the carrier back from last week. Carrier, Hah!, I must have at least 20 of them in the flat now, and she gives me one back! Hahaha! Anyway, she looked and sounded in fine fetal.

Well, I was up for working then, as Shirley and Dizzy Dennis eased off suddenly.

So I decided to sort out the waste bags, Which was a bigger job than I thought it would be. In the hallway, I ended-up stacking seven bags onto the three-wheeler-walking-trolley, a bit of a balancing act. But with me finding the unexpected smidge of confidence and a willingness to graft, there was no stopping me (Yet!) and I began to push the trolley out through the doorway.

I stopped myself when I realised I had not taken the bag for Jenny. Too heavy to add to the trolley, but it seemed an easy enough task to just carry it to the chute-room by hand.

And to my amazement, it went well. In the waste-chute area, things got a bit hairy. I’d purposely made up small bags so they would go down the chute easily enough, but one white bag did not want to have it. I didn’t want to force anything, so took a carrier bag from the basket and broke it up into two bags, and all with no finger-trapping dizzies or other ailments troubling me! This was all very disconcerting, unnatural! 

I left the room and got to the lift lobby. I even go an elevator down to Jenny’s floor, within a minute or so! Luck, good fortune? Makes me shudder!

I put the bag near the door, pressed the bell, and got back to the lift lobby.

The residents lift arrived sharpishly again, I got in the cage, and pressed the floor twelve-button. My mind wandered on all this lack of Accifauxs and Whoopsiedangleplops. The lift stopped, dragging my mind back to the current time, and as I was absentmindedly getting out of the lift, a chap waiting to get on, wittily quipped, “Wrong floor, Gerry!” with a broad grin on his face, and head shaking! He added, “Stick with it, you’ll get there, mate. Hope you’ve some water and food in your trolley!” Hahaha! The wit! The cage had gone down to the 4th floor. It then took me up to my level. I did feel a fool!

I got back in the apartment, and I discovered I’d left two small white bags of rubbish on the kitchen floor.  Tsk!

I got the stick and took the two bags to the waste-chute, and on the way out, Neuropathy Nigel had me walk straight into the door frame! Twas a sickening sound, bone hitting wood, I verbalised a few oaths, by then Shuddering- Shoulder-Shirley started to kick of! It was all I could do to walk back to the flat with so little control over the walking stick, and not tumble over! I got in the flat to the knock-knock sounds from Herbert above.

Now this sort of luck, I understand and expect. Much easier to cope with! Hahaha!

I checked the kitchen for safety, got a bottle of spring water, and cordial made up, took the medications with an extra pain-killer (the shoulder felt a bit raw).

I got on with updating this blog).

Took a look for the latest Corona Virus figures, this chart on the right I got from the Your Nottingham web site.

The mental fatigue came on, and I got my dinner sorted out and served up. Ate it, well, most of it, then washed the pots, got my humongous-bellied body into the £300, second-hand, none-working, uncomfortable, rickety-recliner. Put on the original Die Hard DVD, and fell-asleep about ten-minutes into the film. Tsk!

I was woken up by some banging and tap-tapping noises from above. And wrote some notes of the dream I’d been having, on the notepad.

I rose to have a wee-wee and took this shot of the wonderful sky.

Below on the bottom field, were three youths playing music, and seemingly a picnic of some sort. I could hear the squeaky, tinny-sounding music right up here in the flat, but when I closed the window, I couldn’t. I made a brew, of Glengettie, and consulted the note about the dream to write in here.

Got the computer on; disappointingly, much of my scribble was unreadable. Bits of the memory was still in my head, though.

  • I was in what appeared to me, even in the dream, partly Draycott, Derby, and Leicester, or as if it was around the 1960s.
  • A bus station, again a mixu=re of various bus stations I had used over the years. I wanted a number 42 bus to Derby, but had to settle for a 4X, got on and paid the fair, and the conductor came back to me and asked for me fair again – we argued, the bus stopped, and we came to an agreement that he would only charge me 5/-, not the 6/11d the fare should have been? 
  • I fell asleep and woke up back at the original station.
  • I got off of the bus, and saw someone I knew (Don’t know who), and followed him into a gigantic underground world of brick-sided passages, covered in soot.
  • A bit vague here, the notes didn’t help. Mixed confused memories.
  • I eventually found myself coming out of the giant cave, and found myself in the Derby Bus Station cafe. I was a child in body, but a pensioner in age? Why I can remember this, especially, I know not? I even have a photograph of the exact area on file? The doors in the centre are where I appeared from the preceding part of the dream.

As I was adding this to the Inchcock Today, the ‘Hum’ got louder and louder until it almost became unbearable? Kluggledanks!

I went in to get the ablutions done, to find no hot water, and found the tap running in the sink! Skullclogglebonks!

So, I got this post done as far as here and will continue the tale of woe on tomorrow’s blog.

TTFNski, folks!

Inchcockski – Saturday 1st August 2020: Natterless day again. Humph!

 

Saturday 1st August 2020 

Xhosa: Ngomgqibelo Umhla Wokuqala Ku-Agasti Ka-2020

05:40hrs: I woke, I coughed, I passed wind, and clambered with an iota panic-stricken, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, musty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy-yet-tottery, rickety recliner. Got hold of the four-pronged stick, tested Arthur Itis’s left knee-cap, it was still attached, and off I limped to the wet room.

I felt my balance was not yet settled, and still, I walked into the main room door frame, and the poor-old right shoulder suffered again! But, no point in my getting bothered, pain, and all that, I recovered and pressed on, still unsure if I would get to the Throne in time.

No problem with the timing. The evacuation was back to what had been normal lately. The innards-controlled flow started, then stopped – I picked up the crossword book automatically, and delved into the clues. What seemed like many minutes later (I’d got three clues solved! Hehe!), things began moving again, in a wailfully painful mode!

It’s not necessarily a bad thing, this stop-start stuff on the Porcelain Throne in a morning, you know! The Diabetes insipidus, Post-Micturition Pre & After-Dribbling were not a problem as it trickled and dripped, while I was seated, like a Little Tubby Lord Fauntleroy. (Haha!)

The only fretting coming from the session; was the amount of bleeding. It didn’t look anything like the usual vibrant red, as Harold’s Haemorrhoids leaks usually are?

I cleaned up and medicated things, and I made the way to the kitchen! Taking a snap as I went carefully through the doorway, thus, avoiding any more collisions. The upcoming sunshine from behind the flats lit up the far land-line.

I got the kettle on the boil and blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster, I had to return to the wet room for another a wee-wee! Tsk!

I forbore from any PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) because I’d made my way to the bowl as soon as I got a message from the bladder. Had I decided to finish making the mug of tea and then go for the wee-wee, I’m sure I would have had some embarrassment! The main-stream was surprisingly powerful and persistent. But the AMD still took longer to stop than the actual urinationalisticalising did!

Still, the pins, although looking bloodless, didn’t feel so painful this morning.  Slightly less bothersome. I wish I could say the same for my balance. Hey-ho!

It’s no wonder that I can’t get anything done! Marathon Porcelain Throne visits, now mega-long the PMD and AMD slowing things up even more! The tumbles; that can take ages to get back up from! Housework, what bit I can manage. Walking and banging into things! Shaking Shaun, Saccade-Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Diabet… oh, never mind, moaning’s not going to improve anything. Bit of a self-pitying-chunter, slipped in, there, Sorry! Naughty Inchcock!

I cleaned things up again and returned to the kitchen. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did the Health Checks. Sorted out the puzzling three tablets of the same size in the dosage pots, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who failed on their promise not to put the Furesomide in the pots, but in a box in my monthly prescriptions.

But I bear no malice, hatred, disgust, revulsion, loathing, or desire for execrations towards the antisocial, Inchcock-Hating, Sneering, uncompassionate, superior-acting, uncaring, insensitive, heartless, obdurate, oblivious to damage they are doing,  the callous swine! Oh, no!

I’m not sure why, but I seem to be going almost into a depressional grip, minutes later I’ll be singing to myself, with hints of the Joys-of-Spring in the air, then back down in the pits. Mmm! Bonkersness, or Senility? Or both!

I got on the computer and really bamboozled myself again, just like last Saturday, I think. I was jumping from CorelDrawing, blogging, and back again repeatedly, forgetting what I had been on moments before. And getting annoyed with my self about it! An awful lot of effort, for little return. Schluberdubski!

I got around to creating a template for tomorrow’s post. Then, I went of to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

I took this shot of the houses in front of the building from the light & view-blocking, new kitchen window. Typically, by the time I’d got the camera out, the sunshine had withdrawn. Back to the computer, and it came out again!

So I popped into the balcony and took this photograph. As the sun rose later, it grew to what is now a lovely summers day.

As I was working on the keyboard, making decent progress for the first time, Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters ruined the enjoyment by their dying-off and coming back-on regularly!  Granglesbognessbuggerit!

So, I had to stop and went for yet another mug of tea, Extra-Strong Assam, this time.

I took these snaps on the right, to capture the almost perfect weather for the youngsters and those lucky to be adequately fit enough, have an amble in the bottom field. 

Who? Me? Jealous? No, never! Unglefrogwogglings!

The clouds in the sky were so different from yesterday, even prettier.

About to close the window, and I spotted some regular visitors, down in the field. I’ve seen the chap, he’s been out twice a day since Monday. Gathering blackberries (Rubus ursinus). He either has a taste for them or sells them on? Hahaha! And the Yap-Yap dogs were out, walking their owner. I could hear distinctive yapping, 12-floors up. I love to watch these dogs on their walk. So full of energy, madly shaking tail, and none-stop running and sniffing around, bless ’em!

Nicodemus was still playing up, so I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great photographs on there today. Then on Facebooking to catch up.

Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, along with Anne Gyna, have now joined forces to put an end to me doing very much. I’m going to see how I go making an early meal, take some pain-killers, and get settled in the chair.  Sod-it, Dizzy Denis is back too now!

I made the quotidian feast. It took me a long time, cause I made cheesy potatoes, and seemed to be forever washing up bits splashed and dropped, and applying Germolene to the many bits of my fingers I burnt, getting the baked mixture out of the oven, was the only bad singe, and that was on the overabundant belly, near the button. Hehe! Klutz!

I got down in the dang-wangled c1968 recliner to eat the meal and watched FA Cup Final on the box. Just before the kick-off, my EQ told me the score would be 2-1, unequivocally! And it was, but I thought it would be to Chelsea, but Arsenal won it. Three bookings, a sending off, and for the first time ever, a manager was booked in a Wembley Cup Final!

Then drifted off into the Land of Nod! I woke later, and Dizzy Dennis was back. (The Git!) I carefully made my way to get the ablutions done. And, very well, they went, too! The toothache was only the tiniest bit bothersome. The shaving had a few dropsies and only one nick. The showering, a few short visits from Dizzy Dennis, but no injuries, and one showerhead-dropping. One of the least harassing and most injury-free ablutions session for ages!

The medicationalisationing and freshening up went alright, a few dropsies, the Germolene tube, pain-gel tube (2), and the cap off-off the Cortisone cream. I have yet to find that!

Getting the PPs on, lost a bit of balance, and scraped my ankle on the corner of the floor cabinet.

I think I might have said something to the tune of, ‘Oh, how irritating, that was!’ Ahemski!

The Deep Vein Thrombosis lumps were protruding more than usual? The pins had a little more colour, though.

I took a photo of the evening skyling. Then I got the towel on the stand-up dryer, made a brew, and took the evening medications. Onto Computer Cameron, to update this post.

The earlier faster typing-pace was thwarted, by regular visits from Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. Grogglebotchwitches! Hours later, I sent this off to WordPress, turned off the computer, and crawled into the c1968 recliner. Still having Dizzy Dennis moments! Humph!

Adieu, Mon Amis!

Inchcock – Friday 31st July 2020: Ahh! A Natterless, but betterer day, at last! Yee-Ha!

Thursday evening’s end tale:

The events of the day had worn me to a frazzle, I was tuckered out, wearied and zonked! When I went into the kitchenette, the fantastic night sky demanded of me to photograph it! So I did! 

I took three snaps in different modes. Of course, I can’t remember which was which now (Tsk!) but do recall using Auto, Night landscape, and Aperture Priority.

I got the 12-hours in a crock-pot, home-made stew served up. It looked a little unappealing when it was in the bowl on the tray. After starting the meal 14hrs earlier, this was disappointing. But it turned out fine, tastewise! A Taste Rating of 7/10 seemed about right.

I got the things washed up and despite my fatigued condition, noticed that I’d spilt a lot of gravy on the oven glove. So I set about washing it in the bowl, as I scrubbed away at it, I began to realise that something was amiss. Why was I doing this at this ungodly hour? My EQ told me I might as well, for sleep is not going to come yet!

I made a bottle of spring water & orange cordial, and took it with me to the recliner, and hop[ed Sweet Morpheus would oblige me. But no!

I watched two one-hour long documentaries on the box, without a single nodding-off, even during the commercial breaks! I even had time for a few Thought-Storms before I got off into the bliss of sleep!

I can do without another brain-challenging day like that again! (But of course, they will be back!) Grobognangles!


TFZer, Model?

Friday 31st July 2020

Haitian: Vendredi 31 Jiyè 2020

05:40hrs: So, I must have finally got about four-hours with Sweet Morpheus, and much-needed this was, too!

I stirred again, in an amazingly semi-perky frame of mind! I think the brain had tried overnight to blank out the hellishness of yesterday’s horrible, tormenting trials?

The extraction of my ever-growing, flabbier, bouncing, bulging-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, none-operational, uncomfortable, rickety, rusting recliner was not such an easy task this morning. My balance was a smidge out of synchronisation with Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters on the right side of the body. No Accifauxpas or tumbles during the trip, but I had to move slower and more cautiously than usual, as I hobbled to the kitchen. And en route, Dizzy Dennis started with short sharp spells, and even more care and wariness had to be taken.

I got the soaking oven glove from the sink bowl and got as much water from it as I could. A bit of a severe and painful job, with Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters not being compliant!

Then I hung and wrapped the long oven gloves around the heating bars of the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway.

Put the kettle on and decided to try again, taking three photographs of the morning view, in different camera modes, this time writing down which, to record here. Cunning! The first one was in Auto, the second in Shutter-Priority, and the last one, Aperture-Priority. The third one looked nearest to what the eye saw.

I got the BP sphygmomanometerisationing done. The SYS was back up high again. I imagine yesterdays turmoil and emotional stress, might have been the cause?

I got an insecure feeling that I had forgotten something, that I should remember about today? Most uncomfortable about this! As I was going to the computer, I noticed that the ‘Hum’, was nowhere near as loud today? I’m not complaining, like! I checked on the Google calendar to see if I’d put anything on it for today, zilch, nowt on it? Tsk!

Back to the kitchen, and made a brew, while the kettle was boiling, I needed two wee-wees. Made the tea, and wanted another one! Blimus! Every one of them (I’ll try not to mention any of those that followed; unless there was a change in style, too many to mention them all! Huh!), were of the WOPT (Weak-Orange-Painful-Trickling) mode, with lots of annoying, time-consuming PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribbling)!

Then took the medications, after sorting out the three lookalike small tablets, to identify the Furesomide to remove. Thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, letting me down again. Grangleclogs! To be fair, they are consistent at pissing me off, and have excellent customer ignoring skills! Credit where it’s due!

Back to Computer Cameron. Still not free of this nagging fear that I’ve forgotten something important today, Grrr!

I took this photo through the balcony windows, showing the spreading shadow of the flats.

That’ll be the balcony that has bits of cement or concrete falling from the top inside, that disappear through the wooden floor slats to join the dead insects. Closed windows that let the rain in. End window openings that are cleverly designed. So that you need to push and pull at the same time to open the razor shard-edged metal spring clips at the same time, to open them. Thus, assuring lumps of a finger or two will be removed when operating them.

Incidentally, there have been three people up to now, who have tried to open my balcony end windows since fitted.

  • One, an NCH fitter, he got a bruised and blackened finger for his efforts. Made him jump, and told me, that he is going to report the matter. That was well over two years ago.
  • The second was a Phlebotomy Blood nurse. She got a nasty bruise that tuned black before she’d left the flat. She also said this needs reporting, and I will when get back!  That was about two years ago!
  • The third is me: cuts, bruises, and black spots of varying degrees over the years.

Perfectly well-designed, anyone who is elderly, with Peripheral Neuropathy, Arthritis, Cramps, on Warfarin, Diabetic, poor eye-sight, or senile, these problems have been ignored, not taken on board. I fall into each of the above categories. Luckily, we are all here on a short term basis, age dictates this, so they don’t have to be worried about it. When one resident put in a complaint, he told me the answer given him, was, “Well, don’t open them then!” Fair enough, it’s a solution. But, I don’t complain, I daren’t. Hehehe!

Then, I made a start doing this blog. Dizzy Dennis has decided to attack frequently, but not for any long sessions (up to now, anyway). I made some progress blogging, and then realised I had no page header graphics in hand! And had not caught up om Facebooking either. (The idea that I’d forgot something still wrangled me!) So, I went on Facebooking first, then CorelDraw to create some graphics. It’s hard work, again!

Well, Goodness Gracious me! I’ve been at CorelDrawing now, for nearly four hours, and head-down time approaches, and nothing to eat yet. The worst bit is that I have only got three page-header graphics completed, in all that time! I got carried away, doing much more complicated designs, cause I was enjoying it so much! Now there’s something you really hear me say. Hahaha!

My newly made plans for my nosh are now changed to beef sarnies, Dagwood style, well-buttered, beef, with tomatoes and gherkins. Oh, I’ve got some eggs, it’s been that long since I bought some, I’d forgot I had them. Yes, some boiled egg as well, then!

I’ll make a start now, and return to computerisationing later. Now I have made myself hungry. I hope I get it right. Back sooner or later, folks!

The imitation Dagwood (lathered in Britanny butter) roast beef and tomato rolls, egg mayonnaise, beetroot & onion salad, and pork pie meat, backed up my apples, grapes and imitation cream dessert, was slowly and wallowingly digested, and enjoyed. TR 7/10.

I pondered over the day, a much betterer one than yesterday, although still a talkless to anyone one, (other than to myself – I did a lot of that, barely stopped). And no call to the Porcelain Throne either, yet! I got the pots washed.

I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety recliner, to watch the TV. Fell asleep, and woke up, in a semi-panic, needing to utilise the Porcelain Throne. I say semi-panic, cause I feared I might not get here in time, the gurgling was almost continuous.

But I did it and was most amazed when I sat there for ages, doing the crossword puzzled for yonks. I think I may have broken my record for passing wind, without a break! The movement had to be encouraged, but it was far less painful this time, and of tinned meatballs in texture.

As I’m was about to medicate certain no-longer-used parts of my grossly overweight body, I spontaneously (is that the right word?), thought I might as well do the ablutions while I as there.

I was doing the teeth and realised it was a little late in the day for using the noisy shower tonight, so I opted for a good stand-up bath. No problems with the teggie-cleaning. And shaving, wait for it… did not produce a single cut or nick! Plenty of dropsies, mind.

My plates and legs were the most anaemic looking for years? But, no problems or pains with them. Even Arthur Itis has been in a good mood all day. I fear something unexpected, and discommodious is going to end all this good fortune!

The medicating was painless and accident-free! I’m not used to this?

Freshening up spray, deodorant, that’s the word, created a bit of interest. I must have dropped the ‘Sure’ can repeatedly at one time, five times in a row! It’s a good job there are no microphones in the wet room! I was laughing at myself and passing criticisms every time I dropped it. On the final dropping, the Sure spray can hit my foot and it bounced against the floor cabinet, and the plastic sprayer-top shattered. Hahaha! 

I got the computer back on and updated, then sent off this blog.

TTFNski each, and haveth a super-duper day!

Inchcockski – Saturday 1st August 2020: Natterless day again. Humph!

 

Saturday 1st August 2020 

Xhosa: Ngomgqibelo Umhla Wokuqala Ku-Agasti Ka-2020

05:40hrs: I woke, I coughed, I passed wind, and clambered with an iota panic-stricken, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, musty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy-yet-tottery, rickety recliner. Got hold of the four-pronged stick, tested Arthur Itis’s left knee-cap, it was still attached, and off I limped to the wet room.

I felt my balance was not yet settled, and still, I walked into the main room door frame, and the poor-old right shoulder suffered again! But, no point in my getting bothered, pain, and all that, I recovered and pressed on, still unsure if I would get to the Throne in time.

No problem with the timing. The evacuation was back to what had been normal lately. The innards-controlled flow started, then stopped – I picked up the crossword book automatically, and delved into the clues. What seemed like many minutes later (I’d got three clues solved! Hehe!), things began moving again, in a wailfully painful mode!

It’s not necessarily a bad thing, this stop-start stuff on the Porcelain Throne in a morning, you know! The Diabetes insipidus, Post-Micturition Pre & After-Dribbling were not a problem as it trickled and dripped, while I was seated, like a Little Tubby Lord Fauntleroy. (Haha!)

The only fretting coming from the session; was the amount of bleeding. It didn’t look anything like the usual vibrant red, as Harold’s Haemorrhoids leaks usually are?

I cleaned up and medicated things, and I made the way to the kitchen! Taking a snap as I went carefully through the doorway, thus, avoiding any more collisions. The upcoming sunshine from behind the flats lit up the far land-line.

I got the kettle on the boil and blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster, I had to return to the wet room for another a wee-wee! Tsk!

I forbore from any PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) because I’d made my way to the bowl as soon as I got a message from the bladder. Had I decided to finish making the mug of tea and then go for the wee-wee, I’m sure I would have had some embarrassment! The main-stream was surprisingly powerful and persistent. But the AMD still took longer to stop than the actual urinationalisticalising did!

Still, the pins, although looking bloodless, didn’t feel so painful this morning.  Slightly less bothersome. I wish I could say the same for my balance. Hey-ho!

It’s no wonder that I can’t get anything done! Marathon Porcelain Throne visits, now mega-long the PMD and AMD slowing things up even more! The tumbles; that can take ages to get back up from! Housework, what bit I can manage. Walking and banging into things! Shaking Shaun, Saccade-Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Diabet… oh, never mind, moaning’s not going to improve anything. Bit of a self-pitying-chunter, slipped in, there, Sorry! Naughty Inchcock!

I cleaned things up again and returned to the kitchen. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did the Health Checks. Sorted out the puzzling three tablets of the same size in the dosage pots, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who failed on their promise not to put the Furesomide in the pots, but in a box in my monthly prescriptions.

But I bear no malice, hatred, disgust, revulsion, loathing, or desire for execrations towards the antisocial, Inchcock-Hating, Sneering, uncompassionate, superior-acting, uncaring, insensitive, heartless, obdurate, oblivious to damage they are doing,  the callous swine! Oh, no!

I’m not sure why, but I seem to be going almost into a depressional grip, minutes later I’ll be singing to myself, with hints of the Joys-of-Spring in the air, then back down in the pits. Mmm! Bonkersness, or Senility? Or both!

I got on the computer and really bamboozled myself again, just like last Saturday, I think. I was jumping from CorelDrawing, blogging, and back again repeatedly, forgetting what I had been on moments before. And getting annoyed with my self about it! An awful lot of effort, for little return. Schluberdubski!

I got around to creating a template for tomorrow’s post. Then, I went of to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

I took this shot of the houses in front of the building from the light & view-blocking, new kitchen window. Typically, by the time I’d got the camera out, the sunshine had withdrawn. Back to the computer, and it came out again!

So I popped into the balcony and took this photograph. As the sun rose later, it grew to what is now a lovely summers day.

As I was working on the keyboard, making decent progress for the first time, Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters ruined the enjoyment by their dying-off and coming back-on regularly!  Granglesbognessbuggerit!

So, I had to stop and went for yet another mug of tea, Extra-Strong Assam, this time.

I took these snaps on the right, to capture the almost perfect weather for the youngsters and those lucky to be adequately fit enough, have an amble in the bottom field. 

Who? Me? Jealous? No, never! Unglefrogwogglings!

The clouds in the sky were so different from yesterday, even prettier.

About to close the window, and I spotted some regular visitors, down in the field. I’ve seen the chap, he’s been out twice a day since Monday. Gathering blackberries (Rubus ursinus). He either has a taste for them or sells them on? Hahaha! And the Yap-Yap dogs were out, walking their owner. I could hear distinctive yapping, 12-floors up. I love to watch these dogs on their walk. So full of energy, madly shaking tail, and none-stop running and sniffing around, bless ’em!

Nicodemus was still playing up, so I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great photographs on there today. Then on Facebooking to catch up.

Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, along with Anne Gyna, have now joined forces to put an end to me doing very much. I’m going to see how I go making an early meal, take some pain-killers, and get settled in the chair.  Sod-it, Dizzy Denis is back too now!

I made the quotidian feast. It took me a long time, cause I made cheesy potatoes, and seemed to be forever washing up bits splashed and dropped, and applying Germolene to the many bits of my fingers I burnt, getting the baked mixture out of the oven, was the only bad singe, and that was on the overabundant belly, near the button. Hehe! Klutz!

I got down in the dang-wangled c1968 recliner to eat the meal and watched FA Cup Final on the box. Just before the kick-off, my EQ told me the score would be 2-1, unequivocally! And it was, but I thought it would be to Chelsea, but Arsenal won it. Three bookings, a sending off, and for the first time ever, a manager was booked in a Wembley Cup Final!

Then drifted off into the Land of Nod! I woke later, and Dizzy Dennis was back. (The Git!) I carefully made my way to get the ablutions done. And, very well, they went, too! The toothache was only the tiniest bit bothersome. The shaving had a few dropsies and only one nick. The showering, a few short visits from Dizzy Dennis, but no injuries, and one showerhead-dropping. One of the least harassing and most injury-free ablutions session for ages!

The medicationalisationing and freshening up went alright, a few dropsies, the Germolene tube, pain-gel tube (2), and the cap off-off the Cortisone cream. I have yet to find that!

Getting the PPs on, lost a bit of balance, and scraped my ankle on the corner of the floor cabinet.

I think I might have said something to the tune of, ‘Oh, how irritating, that was!’ Ahemski!

The Deep Vein Thrombosis lumps were protruding more than usual? The pins had a little more colour, though.

I took a photo of the evening skyling. Then I got the towel on the stand-up dryer, made a brew, and took the evening medications. Onto Computer Cameron, to update this post.

The earlier faster typing-pace was thwarted, by regular visits from Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. Grogglebotchwitches! Hours later, I sent this off to WordPress, turned off the computer, and crawled into the c1968 recliner. Still having Dizzy Dennis moments! Humph!

Adieu, Mon Amis!

Inchy – Thurs 30th July 2020: Horrendous, gruesome, busy, insufferable, and at times, hellacious day!

TFZer, Model Lona

Thursday 30th July 2020

Scots Gaelic: Diardaoin 30 Luchar 2020

03:40hrs: I almost fluttered into life this morning, mainly due to Saccades Sandra taking a while to let me focus visually, enough to risk getting up to move about. My attempts at getting some seeable vision by blinking and stretching the eyes with the forehead reminded me of butterflies and old black & white films. Eventually, things settled a lot, and I began to hunch my overly-weighted, bouncing-bellied body from the c1968, none-working, rickety, rusty, recliner.

As I had just got up on the pins and caught my balance, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. The innards enforced the urgency of the situation, by adding to its typical signs of stabbing pains, a gurgling sound, and mini-escapages of wind, that left a putridness, that seemed to follow me around for ages! Stick in hand, and being wary of the creases in the ever-moving carpeting, I moved as quickly as I could, to the wet room!

I just made it in time! The motion began entirely of its own accord. It was once again of the Diarhorrea Duncan mode, like yesterday, the only difference was it seemed to stop short, and I had to painfully force the last bits out. Argh!

I was foolishly, somewhat over-rigorously antisepticising a certain area, and Little Inchies fungal lesion started bleeding. I cleaned things up and applied the Corticosteroid cream generously, in hopes of stemming the flow of Warfarin and Morphine contaminated Haemoglobin. To my satisfaction, it did the job!

Manly, I merely winced, then threw back my head, and mockingly laughed at the pain! Eurgh-Ouch!

Thus,  Harold’s Haemorrhoids bled profusely, and much cleaning-up and medicationalisationing were needed. Oh, by the way, I’d like to sing the praises of Andrex Toilet Tissue here. So much less painful, and it allowed the first flush to remove everything! Shame, I’ve only got the one roll left, Tsk! I’ve got plenty more rolls though, that I’ve Christened ‘Ten-Flushes-Rolls’, left. Hehehe!

After cleaning and creaming certain areas in need, I departed off to the Kitchenette. Noticing how flipping cold it was this morning, in the flat anyway. The first thing I checked was if I had left a window open, but no.

Got the kettle on, and the Health Checks things out ready, and risked opening the thick-framed, light & view-blocking new windows, and attempted to take a shot of the morning view. As you can see on the right here, it didn’t come out very well, crap actually! Humph! It’s that bad, the Tate Gallery might be interested in showing it, perhaps?

Did the Health Checks, and was pleased with the results, the temperature showed as just ‘Low’, it might be stuck on this and not working? Tsk!

Made the brew of Assam Extra-Strong tea, went to the computer and got her going, and had to return to the wet room for a wee-wee. I’ve not had a leak like this for ages, of the VSWAOTP (Viciously-Spraying-Wildy-All-Over-The-Place) fashion. So, more cleaning and disinfecting had to be done. It’s a good job that I don’t have any friends to visit. I’d be cleaning their toilets, the wall, floor, and porcelain out of habit! Hahaha!

I found two photos from last night, one of the meats prepared for cooking, and then what turned out to be delicious Chinese belly pork nosh!

Crock-pot cooked potatoes, with just sea salt added. The fresh pod peas, boiled with a bit of castor sugar, Piccolo tomatoes, a disc of Marmite Cheese, and the Chinese Hoisin seasoned belly pork. I recall enjoying this one very much. A flavour rating of 8/10!

I pressed on and got a template made for tomorrow, then started this blog going. After about an hour or so, of relatively ailment-free botherations, I went to make another mug of tea, Glengettie this time. 

After another fireman’s hosepipe-like wee-weeing, and cleaning up session, I went to get the vegetables prepped and in the crock-pot. I used the large one today, for the first time in ages.

Shelled the peas and cut the leeks. Then sliced some red onions, and added them all to the potatoes in the large crock-pot. Added some sea salt and Oxo vegetable stock. Put it on the low-setting, then got the things washed up I’d dirtied prepping the vegetables.

Only a few peas were dropped and lost. Not cuts with the knife! No burnt fingers either! Mind you, I did hit my head bending down to retrieve a lost pea. Hahaha!

Back to Computer Cameron, and did a search for any local Corona Virus updates.

Then got things ready to get the ablutions done. And off to the wet room, and looking forward to getting a shower, and talking to the Sock-Glide, in a sneering manner, as it sits there, sulking contemptuously, almost scathingly. Desperate to get back to cutting me, bruising me, tripping me over, stubbing my toes, and mostly donating blood blisters, and welts on my fingers! (Sorry, I’m losing it here!)

After checking that the Amazon delivery tracker, I(They have not reached the delivery base yet!) to make sure the slippers would not arrive early, I trundled off to the wet room.

Well, a surprisingly few Whoopsies suffered (Some, of course!) session!

The teeth cleaning went well, the shaving had only two dropsies (both razors). The showering, well. a few here, the showerhead dropped (2), and the shower gel bottle.

Drying off, the sock glide sat there, staring at me all the time. I’m, not sure it didn’t even scoff at me at one time! Hahaha!

Bit of a set-back on the medicalisationing tasks, though. Little Inchies fungal lesion started to bleed again, but only a bit. I double-winced as I applied the cream. I clouted my right elbow against the sink, then.

Probably the most entertaining new, a first-time-ever Accifauxpas! As I was holding the towel in each hand, going to and fro drying my back, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed me! My right hand shot off, and I gave myself a hell of a thump, right on my nose! Cribblebogangonies!

A drop of blood flowed, I went dizzy, Saccades Sandra kicked off, the nose went red, and I felt a right fool! After cleaning up the tiny spots of blood, I just had to take a selfie of the red nose. But, by the time I’d got around to taking the photo, it had all but gone. Hehehe!

Well, Tate Gallery, are you interested? Or am I to think of something along the lines of the American minimalist sculptor, Carl Andre, and do something like his brick display? I can think of a few words to describe what I thought, and still do, think of it.

Pitiable, pathetic, lamentable, dismal, ludicrous, feeble, phoney, laughable, hair-brained, asinine, and glaikit, come immediately to mind.

Carl Andre, an artist? Pull the other one! Humph and Fiddlesticks! Art, my Arse!

I came out from the wet room, feeling in a half-decent mood. And decided to get the blue Mayanmar (Formerly Burma) made, Primark zip-up 100% Polyester, £9.99, top washed.

You can see how well I live can’t you, pure class!

I really didn’t think it would be quiet as dirty as it was! Cor Blimus, I rinsed it that often until the water came clear, it must have taken me an hour before I got it done, wrung and hung above the sink to drip-dry! Dirty Inchcock! It should be dry by about September.

I make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. And took a shot of the City Hospital. Where my Xyrophobia suffering, over amour propred Brother-in-law Pete, pools winner and three-time Lottery winner (Not counting his up-to-now 278 scratch-card wins – counts them every week you know!), went in for his Big C treatment, and I got good vibes back while I was taking it. Fingers crossed, for the lucky, handsome, hair on head, clever-with-his-hands, electrical genius! 

I rang out the hanging shirt come jacket, as I have been doing regularly since having washed it. Then returned to the updating on this blog, I’m getting a little weary now, and reckon the Amazon slippers will arrive late today. And still haven’t caught up on the WordPress Reader and Facebook yet!

An hour or so later, I went for a mug of Glengettie tea. Amnd noticed I’m not-half doing some sneezing?

I returned and took this photo on the right, from the computer chair, of the view out of the balcony, on my left.

I then went on the WordPress Reader section. Then onto Facebooking, to try and catch-up. A bit slow going on the computer again. Humph!

I thought as you do, I’ll enlist with Sainsbury’s, and make an order. What could go wrong? Hah!

The hands were bad, Nicodemus again. But I signed on with them and started doing an order. When it came to the checkout, well, what performance. All the numbers and details they wanted, and I must have made so many mistakes, cause I to repeat things sop often, I ren out of time and I got blocked by them!

Then I found I was supposed to have signed up with Nectar, that was of great confusion for me, the numbers and passwords was a nightmare, after filling in the pages, it kept coming back that the details were wrong! I had to repeatedly reset at least four passwords and I got myself into a bad panic (My numbers phobia again), in a right muddle.

Then I got blocked for a second time for not completing in the given 30/40-minute (Security) window!

Then Nectar sent me another password reset, and I just didn’t know what I was doing! The only time I wished I lived with someone for years, no help, no time to get any. everything was being tightly timed, and Shuddering-
Shoulder-Shirley kicked-off, Oh dear! 

Eventually, Gawd knows how, but I got back on the Sainsbury page, and they had kept the order I was doing on the page. Then I had to put in all the bank details again. More passwords needed! Then I had reset one a second time!

The scribble on my notepad was barely readable! But, I found a doggedness, and eventually, signed in again with Sainsbury’s (3rd time), and had yet again, to put in the card details, with time running out for the third time!

I got the order sent off eventually, but I had to confirm various details again first, and I kept getting emails… Crap!

Then, when they accepted payment, sent me details, I found they had charged me £7 for delivery!

Believe it or not, I’m feeling proper poorly now. I can’t cope on my own anymore.

I’ll just have to take that offer up to marry me from Michelle Pfeiffer, then.

And the slippers have yet to come, the vegetables for the stew have been overcooked methinks! 

Then the INR test result record was delivered. From Monday’s blood giving. Took them a while this week, and I realised that no one from the surgery or Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic, had called with me new dosages.

Pathetically, I felt a little sorry for myself, after such a reasonable day as well. Then realised I’d been up for fourteen hours, Nicodemus and Shirley were both pestering me, what a state to get into.

Then I realised, in getting signed on with Sainsbury’s and Nectar, had cost me three hours of my life! And left me drained, and wee’d off. I’m guessing the numbers and figures going all wrong, has started this depression off, but I’m only guessing. 

No one to talk to, fall out with, and even Herbert is not knocking and banging about today! Ah, well, Que sera, sera!

I’m not even feeling hungry yet, what’s going on? Hahaha! Knick-knockers!

I’ll see if the slippers are anywhere near, on the Amazon tracker.

My stupidity continues! It knows no bounds! The Universe is its Oyster! I looked at the tracker and it was showing the map. I saw the red circle, and assumed the van was outside the flats! So, I went and stood near the intercom waiting for it to go off. I stood there for ages, too scared to move in case I didn’t hear the pathetic, weak tone of the intercom box when it went off. It can’t be much longer I said to myself. But it was!

Forty minutes later, I nipped back quickly to check on the tracker again, below on the original tracker when I looked, I widened the picture and realised the red circle was the flats, a green one was the lorry, that didn’t show up on the first screen, thus, this old fart was confused! What a pillock!

I was just glad when the driver did eventually get up to the flat, it was about an hour later. He was in a terrible rush, dropped the bag on the floor and shot off! I don’t think he heard my thank you, especially as it was being interfered with by Stuttering Stephanie!

I put the well-squashed bag down, dropping the four-pronged metal stick as I did so, and of course, naturally, as is to be expected, it goes without saying, came down and hit my toes! Grubblesoddit!

I tore open the bag, to reveal the semi-flattened brown slippers, with outside-soles! Tsk!

I tried to reshape them, had a modicum of success too.

I got the vegetables out of the slow-cooker and into the pan of canned stewed steak, seasoned with some gravy salts. Came back to this computer, and within minutes I could smell burning! I limped ASAP into the kitchen, to find the pan of stew bubbling merrily away! I’d turned the heat up, instead of off!

Is there any hope or future for me? Grobbleknangles! I wonder if there’s a Senior Citizens adoption society or Grandpappy Replacement Union? No, that wouldn’t be fair on anyone.

Shattered as I felt, I had to make up a template for tomorrow. So through closing eyes, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, and the Stinging Harold Haemorrhoids, I did just that. Smug-Mode-Engaged!

Went on the comments to catch up, I’ve had a wickedly busy day again.

I grafted away at this blog until fatigue defeated me! Managed to make a template for tomorrow, then I went on email to sort out all the harassing from Sainsbury’s and Nectar, but mainly, cause I’m feeling guilty for not answering Lisa until so late, so I’ll do that first.

I may be back… Hahaha!

I’ve replied to Lisa, at last, and had a bash on the WordPress reader.

Went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, and despite it being so late, the Sun was high and blasting.

A lovely evening, weatherwise!

Shattered, I am! I’m going to post this off now, then get summat to eat, the stew, if it tastes alright overcooked.

TTFNski, each!.

 

Inchcockski – Monday 27th July 2020: Toenails cut, but bad news followed! Nottingham City photos taken. Ah, well!

TFZer Model ♥

Monday 27th July 2020

Hungarian: 2020 Július 27, Hétfő

20:45hrs: Not the odd time here on the left? That’s because I did the Sunday post early, and continue with it into this blog. To save time today. Cunning eh? I think that’s what I mean? 

18:30hrs: I got out of the £300, second-hand, rusty, decrepit, c1968 rickety recliner, and got the computer back on, to finish the Sunday blog, and got it sent off. Emailed the links, then on Facebooking catching-up.

Had a bash at doing some graphics up, on CorelDraw. Did a couple and sat down in the rickety, c1968 recliner, to have a mug of Extra Strong Assam tea, and some Branston Pickle flavoured cheddars… Fatal! But oh, so pleasurable! I nodded off into the land of Sweet Morpheus, and a few hours (it felt like), off constant dreaming. All memories of my past, younger days.

0455hrs, I woke up, almost in a panic! ‘Oh, what time is it ?’ – ‘I’ve not sorted the things out yet for podiatrist trip!’ –  ‘What needs doing fist?’ But the need for a wee-wee arrived; breaking my train of thought.

The urgency of the sudden liquid-evacuation meant I made a right Whoopsie, and got up, caught my balance and wandered over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) without taking the walking stick. I arrived at the bucket, okay but as I began to relieve myself of the RSP (Reluctant-Sprinkly-Painful) wee-wee, Shuddering -Shoulder-Shirley kicked-off! How I managed to keep hold of the grey bucket, was nothing short of a miracle! As soon as things stopped flowing, I put the bucket down, and without spilling anything (Very-Temporary-Smug-Mode-Adopted). 

Just to guarantee me a terrible start to this already worrying day, Peripheral Neuropathy Paul launched one of his involuntary, no-control-over, right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went. Backwards – but this was a good thing, for I fell onto the £300, second-hand recliner. Not only that, but I missed hitting both of chair-arms on my way down! I wish I’d got the camera in reach, as I lay there, watching the last few dying twitches and flutters of the leg. Within a minute, it had calmed down altogether (which is not rare).

But, the incident had triggered thoughts of insecurity within me. I began to fear and imagine terrible consequences ahead for me. Will I manage going out after so long? Will Paul give me any bother at the Podiatry Clinic? I’m already doubtful that they will cut my toenails for me? Will the trolley-walker fit in the taxi? Will the cab arrive on time? Will I be able to get my shoes on? On, and on, the worries flowed…

Fortunately, the need of the Porcelain Throne arrived then, with the usual request from the innards, stabbing pains and a little inner-rumblings. Without delay, I got the camera and four-pronged walking stick, and hobbled to the wet room, with a degree of alacrity.

Oh, dearie me! What a session it was! Good and bad luck involved. I only just got there in time, (but thankfully did!) before things started to painfully and slowly evacuated of there own accord, I had no control over this whatsoever. Masses of pongy, sticky, messy product. Bleeding as well. I shan’t go too far into this (although I may have already done so, sorry). The cleaning things up was a long job, and the washing and medicating stung a bit. Hehehe!

I took a shot of the painful uncut toenails, and wondered if they will be cut when I get back from the Health Centre? I hoped this would be the last photo of my Howard Hughes feet.

Another thing I noticed was how flipping pale I looked, really anaemic! This may be the thing that will prevent them from treating my feet and cutting the nails. I have a horrible feeling about this, today’s hassle to get out, is going to be a waste of time! Surely they cannot make me wait until November at the Sherwood Health Centre? If so, it will be over a week since, so I’ll have to book again, and obviously, the available date will probably be in December or January!

I got to the kitchenette and took a shot of the blue-tinged (or should that be blue-hued?) sky. Got the kettle on, and the Health Check gear out of the medical drawer.

The dang thermometer was playing up again, all I could get on the readout, was ‘Low’, no figures.

But the sphygmomanometer readings were perhaps the best for months. Which doesn’t fit with my skin and body mass being so pale and ghostly looking?

Computer Cameron on, and updated this blog.

Turned off everything, and checked the face mask, money for the taxi, bus pass to get home, socks and shoes (hopefully) to put on (for the first time in months) after the treatment, in the trolley. But I was not confident I’d checked everything. It’s been that long now since I’ve been out anywhere, I felt nervous at the thought now? Silly old sausage!

Then I got the ablutions sorted out, early, thus allowing myself extra-time to have another check after the ablutionalisationing, for things I’m sure I’d not remembered. A touch of anamesia there?

Off to the wet room. (Which still had the Porcelain Throne activities aroma lingering – Cor!) I had a stand-up, teggies, shave, and wash. I did the feet stood in the bowl. A couple of nicks shaving, and only three dropsies all together! I need some more razors, I’ll see if I can get some after the Clinic if it goes well.

I prepped four waste bags and took them to the waste-chute. It was a bit awkward getting through to the chute room, as the decorators were starting work on my floor.

The lobby is looking better already!

I returned to collect the big bag of recycling waste and departed again to take the stuff down to the caretaker’s room. As I was on the way down in the lift, the cage stopped on the 9th floor, and a contractor bloke nearly got on, until he saw me in there. Naughty! Using the tenant’s elevator when we can’t use their dedicated one? But, to be fair, I’ve seen no-end of tenants using the wrong lift! So, fairs, fair! Hahaha!

The weather was little wet this morning, and seemed to be getting worse? I dropped the bag off at the bin, and the caretakers said something to me, but I didn’t catch what it was. They weren’t scowling or glaring at me, so I assumed I’d done nothing wrong. Hehe! Gave them a smile, and returned to the lobby and back up the elevator.

As the lift door opened, I struggled to get through back to the flat. Took my time and carefully worked my way through, without any hassle. Into the flat, and checked on things, taps, lights, stove etcetera, in readiness for my departure.

I looked out of the balcony window, as I pondered on whether to risk brewing myself a mug of tea or not. In the end, I decided against having a drink. Better safe than sorry, especially with the current PMPD & PMAD dribbling problems, and my going out, as well!

The precipitation was getting more substantial, and things went suddenly very dark?

I reappraised my arrangements and what I’d got done in advance, worried that I may have missed something. Checked the jacket pockets for the bus pass, keys, taxi money, note from Jenny etc., and timed it to get down for the taxi with fifteen minutes to spare. As usual, being the fussbudget, worrier and doomster that I am, I rechecked the flat for the umpteenth time, before my leaving, but still in an uncertain frame of mind. I knew something ‘botheration-wise’ was going to take place, no doubt about that! I’m not a soothsayer, necromancer or Augur, it’s just my EQ (Not IQ), was telling me of foreboding news in the offing today, and he has never-ever wrong!

I got down to the ground floor and spotted that there had been a change of some sort in the Fire-Riser. But what is was, I couldn’t decipher. I’m losing it here, methinks?

I got to the front lobby and waited for the arrival of the DG cab. A black Hackney cab arrived five minutes before the DG on due, and I assumed it was for someone else. The driver came to me and asked if I was Gerry. He was for me. He was a lovely chap and helped me into the cab, and we soon at the Health Centre. He drove carefully en route. He dropped me off as close as it was possible to the entrance doors, bless him.

I paid him, thanked him and made my way into the clinic, as the rain started to come down heavier again.

I entered and followed the written advice on the advice on display, to use the hand sanitiser on entry. I made my way to the reception counter, and the young lady greeted me before I could speak with, ” Are you, Gerald Chambers?” – “Yes”, I said – ” Sit over there!” She said – “Thank you, I said. And sat over there. Hehehe!

Well early, of the appointment time, so I got the crossword book out. Moments later, a young lady came towards me, “Are you, Gerald Chambers?” “Yes!” “Follow me!” So, I did.

I could tell there was bad news coming. She went through a question and answer routine, and took the feets blood circulation test, with four blobs of jelly, two each foot. The disappointing news was given to me while she was cutting the toenails. There are new rules, and I don’t qualify for NHS nail-cutting, anymore, as my circulation in the feet is okay. I’ll have to use a private chiropodist in future.

I explained, that with the Coronavirus, maybe, I’ve had three podiatrists refuse to cut my toenails, last week. I told her how the Warden of the complex had rung them for me. This made no difference, the new rules have to be adhered to. (I expected something like this!) The lady gave me a place to ring or go to on the internet. Obviously, there are many other senile-sufferers in my position and agony with their feet.

Still, it’s not the ladies fault. She woman (in face mask and shield helmet, by the way, hiding a most appealing pretty face) did say I’d brought up a valid point, and she would mention this to her ‘boss’, but I was not to expect too much in the way of success. Haha!

I thanked her muchly and hobbled out into the rain. But I was not overly-disappointed at all. For I knew something was going to go wrong today, my good old EQ knew too!

I decided to have a walk into town in the drizzle. Apart from passing some characters that I knew were of a threatening nature, and made me weary, the hobble to the City Centre was enjoyed greatly. It’s been so long since I did this, it seemed a pleasure, especially as the toenails had been trimmed, and walking was so much less hassle now.

The going did get a little rough by the time I got to the end of St Ann’s Well Road, as the left side brakes of the three-wheeled-walker-guide, had now packed up altogether. Hey-ho!

Within half-an-hour I was on Upper Parliament Street. Crossing George Street, a git of a pavement cyclist almost got me! He plodded on uncaring up George Street, which like everywhere else, seemed most baron of tellurians, understandably.

I bought a packet of red and green seedless grapes from a stallholder. I’ll split this with Josie later. Then I can make sure she doesn’t wake me up to bring back the dinner tray and things again. I hope!

I passed the Wilko store, as a security guard was stopping folks going in without a face-mask on (Naughty!) I made my way into my beloved Poundland shop, and had a good look around, and selecting things I fancied.

When I got to the self-serve tills, I had a few dropsies and felt a right fool – which was guaranteed by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley’s antics! I’d bought; A Pork Farms pork pie, Zoflora and a cheaper variety of disinfectants (3), lemon bleach (2), Bic razors, Individual milk pots, Lemon & cucumber scented air freshener (2), and a packet of 6 BBQ flavoured mini-cheddars. A lot of which got in the bag via a trip to the floor! (Thanks to Shirley! Huh!) I’ve never seen so few customers in the place!

I paid with cash, and the change also had a trip to the floor. Suddenly I had help arrive! But not all of the change monies were rescued. Humph!

Getting out and controlling the trolley was not an easy task, and my stopping to take photographs caused a few near-accifauxpas, as the brakes were so unreliable.

I made my way stutteringly to Milton Street and the Bargain Buys, previously known as the PoundStrechers. As I arrived, the heavens opened up! Just in time eh! Hahaha!

I consulted my shopping list I’d made for this shop. Pakistani Potato Cakes, 6 x small cans Garden Peas, Egg Mayonaisse, Woolite liquid soap, vegetable Oxo cubes, a lemon and a lime cooking juice, Zoflora lemon, and 3 chocolate almond. I realised I was going to have a heck of job carrying all of these, with the two baf=gs I had on the handlebars already. Oh, dearie me! As it happened I had no problems at all? They only had the Woolite and one pack of chocolate almonds on sale. Tsk!

This bothered me more than the podiatrist let-down! I paid the lady at the checkout and somewhat miserably made my way through Trinity Square.

Still, the rain almost stopped, and I had a great photographicalistical few moments, snapping all around where I stood in Trinity Square. Again, a lack of people! I limped down to Parliament Street and snapped the Frankie & Benny food store on the corner of King Street. Only three customers as I could see in there.

Then walked down towards the City centre, and back up Queen Street to find the times of the buses back home. This was the first time I’d had a choice of buses to make. The L9 was due in five minutes later, the 40 bus was fifteen minutes from arrival time. So, I trudged up the hill to the L9 stop. One other lady was waiting. The bus arrived, the driver got out for a fag, we waited, and then the uncommunicative pauciloquent driver, got on, managing to issue two words to the lady and me; one of them was Huh! Bless him! Probably in line for Driver of the Year?

I struggled to stay awake on the trip back, only one person boarded en route, making a total of three passengers!

I dismounted and ambled through the warm rain along Chestnut Walk, back to the flats. I thought of poping in the office and asking Riechsfuhreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana if she would ring about the podiatrists for me. But I realised she would be on her nosh, so didn’t bother her, I’ll try again later on.

I got in the block of flats, spotting the updated list of working areas. Then had a bit of a wait to get the tenant’s elevator to get to me.

DeanaThen I noticed the time on the electronic display board. It was earlier than I thought it was, only 11:34 hrs.

I got up to the flats. Put the purchases away, and called at Josie’s with the grapes, and she gave me the tray back. Maybe this week, I can get to sleep and stay asleep! Fingers crossed, that Herbert is quieter.

Back to the flat, and planned some cooked beef cobs with extras (tomatoes, egg mayonnaise etc.) for the meal later.

Then got on with updating this post. In between satisfying unusual urges for mugs of tea?

The Vampire Nurse Hristina called, (lovely to hear a friendly voice) and told me she would be calling to do the blood test tomorrow, twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs. Marvellous! I pressed on updating, despite Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters playing up and costing me a lot of time.

Great balls of fire! I’ve been at this blogging for over five-hours now! How time flies!

I like missing the toenail pains! Haha!

Better pack up and get the nosh sorted out. I did some part-baked cobs, buttered them and added sliced tomatoes and a slice of cooked beef to each one. On the disposable plate, sliced apple, some grapes, egg mayonnaise, and chicken thighs (Which were not eaten, eurgh!) Flavour rating 7/10.

Went to wash the pots, as the clouds turned threateningly dark suddenly.

After the long day, an enjoyable bit of exercise, the let-down over the podiatrist, and how worn out I felt, I hoped I would get to sleep easier tonight.

Not so! Humph!

Inchcocksi – Friday 24th July 2020: Incomprehensibly, a Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas shortage today. Most disconcerting!

TFZer Actress & Ballerina Eve

Friday 24th July 2020

Croatian: Petak, 24 Srpnja 2020. Godine

03:30hrs: I woke up requiring a widdle, and de-wedged my overly sized stomach-burdened body from the c1968 rickety recliner. With some haste, there was a chance of some Post-Micturition Pre-Dribbling, I could sense it, so hurriedly, I moved to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket)…

Too late, I’m afraid! Starting a day like this with an Accifauxpas three minutes of waking up, was not a good start!

Off to the wet room for a good clean-up, and a change of PP’s. Then to the kitchenette and got the kettle on. Taking a photo that did not come out anything like what the eyes saw, of the kitchen windows. Will anything go right today? Pickletorment!

The sphygmomanometer readings were very close to the ones that were for last Friday! Not too bad. The temperature, taken on the old stick thermometer (the new one has packed up on me, Tsk!), showed a ‘Low’ again.

I took the morning medications and made a brew of Morrisons Extra-Strong Assam tea. I had a bit of good-luck then! (Oh, yes!) As I limped to the cupboard to put back the BP machine, I trod on a piece of broken pottery from last night’s dropping of the milk jug! And did not cut my foot, no bleeding at all. Swank-Mode-Assumed!

I got the computer on and checked the diary for today. The only thing on it was the Iceland Food Delivery, twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs. Only two items unavailable this time. I was feeling guilty about getting the cake anyway. Haha! So, I must get a stand-up ablutions session before 07:00hrs to make sure I’m available just in case they arrive earlyish.

I made a start on updating yesterday’s diary. After an hour or so, during which the ‘Hum’ outside had grown so loud, I could hear it easily without any hearing aids in, I made another mug of tea, Thompsons Punjabi. Took this snap of Chestnut Walk, it came out decent enough. Then sent the post off to WordPress, Emailed the links. Made up a template for this blog, then got on with writing it, and it was almost a pleasure!

But where and why Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters, Shaking Shaun, Saccades Sandra, and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had gone, I couldn’t understand? No doubt they’ll be back again, they always are. But I made the best of this medical-marvel, and typed away better than I have for ages! I really enjoyed these two-hours of freedom from some of the ailments. I believe, for a short time, I was almost happy! Oh, Yes!

As I started on the WordPress Reader, things got back to normal, I’m afraid. Shirley and Nicodemus both reactivated. Tsk! Off to the wet room now, to get the ablutions tackled! Back in a bit.

I’m back! The poor-old plates and toes are looking doughier, more livid, and anaemic than ever. A bit much to contend with. Even wearing the slippers a is painful and uncomfortable. Wearing the shoes and mask on Monday for the trip to the Health Centre podiatrist, is going to be a challenge, let alone getting the boots on! Expuslivications!

Anyway, the ablution session was a mixed one, good and bad involved.

  • The teeth cleaning as going well, until, towards the end, I caught one of the rear molars, as Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters lost sense of touch, and I pressed too hard.
  • The amazing thing is that I had no pain for several minutes, then the nerves sent the message to the brain. By that time, I had finished doing the teeth and was putting on the shaving foam.
  • The agony shot from the tooth, and I dropped the foam can, and it landed on my toes! Argh!
  • The shaving went well, only one little nick on the neck!
  • No toe-stubbings!
  • No Dizzy Dennis visits!.
  • Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley made me drop the towel and knock a few bits off of the floor cabinet in trying to catch it before it hit the deck.
  • As I was leaving the wet room, I lunged a bit to the right as I lost balance, and somehow or other, did not make any contact with the door frame edge or wall?

One of my better ablutionalisations. Overall, an interesting session, I’ve had many worserer ones! Hoity-Toity tendencies triggered!

I got dressed and was ready in case the Iceland delivery arrives. I started to get some waste bags done up, with additional cardboard box ones, to go to the rubbish chute. Stacked them ready for after the food arrives. I don’t want to risk taking them yet and missing the delivery on the intercom.

Carried on with the updating of this blog. Half-an-hour later, the intercom buzzed, and I let in the Iceland man. He was up in a jiffy, and he put the bags in the doorway for me. I took them through to the kitchen. There didn’t seem to be many bags this time? I checked the list and sorted it through checking the goods. Did the few freezer items first, all three there, and then spent about fifteen-minutes trying to make room to get them in the freezer! Haha!

Got the apple pies in the cupboard with the tinned potatoes and instant mash.

The fridge carrier, well, there were two of them, was sorted then. Steak slices, vine tomatoes, Pork & Pickle pork pies, mushrooms, cooked roast beef slices, satays, dessert pots, beetroot salad, potato salad, egg & mayonnaise salad, and to my surprise, some cooked chicken thighs.

I can’t really recall ordering them. But then, I can’t remember where the flat keys are, what I had for dinner yesterday, or what I was about to do as I left the kitchen? Sad, innit?

I got the rubbish bags, not the big recycling one, just the six little ones that will go down the chute, and out to take them there. A lady decorator was in the lift lobby, and she kindly took them off of me, saying she’ll take them for me because some steps and barriers were near the chute-room door. I thanked her muchly! Then hobbled back to the apartment. Kind of her!

Made myself a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. And the milk had gone orf! Humph! Made another and used the new pots of milk. Then back on the computer, to update it as far as here. Then went on Facebooking. Got the latest Coronavirus figures.

Not so good, is it?

I was feeling a bit peckish, as you do, like. And wondered about having soft brown Thins with Marmite for nosh later? But, what do I have with ’em? After some faffing about trying to make my mind vacant up, I thought some sausages and baked beans? But I left, making my mind up until later. What a ditherer I am! It took a while, but being as I have peas left in the pan from yesterday, I’ll have them, tomatoes, and Marmite sarnies! I think?

Then, onto CorelDraw to do a couple more TFZer header graphics. Slow going again, but I got two done.

The doorbells chimed out merrily with the tune of Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I Only Want to Be with You ♫.  I struggled to get some clothes on.

I shot like a bolt-of-lighting to answer the door. Well, alright,  I hobbled less slowly than usual, anyway, Hehe! An envelope was through the letter-box, I opened the door, no one in sight.

Jenny, bless her ♥, had made and printed up a clear note for me to take with me on Monday, to show to the podiatrist, in case Stuttering Stephany took a grip on me. (At this point, I thought I must ask Jenny if she has any idea how much the taxi fare will be, so I can make sure I have enough with me). I got on the telephone to thank her and ask Jenny if she had an idea what taxi fare might be. But of course, I forgot to ask about the cab, I was too intent on thanking her for her kindness. I am a klutz!

Weary William fell on me so quickly, I set about making the evening’s (to me, any normal person it would be afternoon tea! Hahaha) meal.

Two mini-pork & pickle pork pies, (say that when you’ve had a few, Haha!). Piccolo tomatoes, canned garden peas, egg mayonnaise, beetroot & carrot salad, and four brown bread thins with lashings of gorgeous Marmite.

The red grapes and apples I intended to have, turned out just apples. (The red grapes had all gone gooey and had to be discarded, Tsk!) So I had a mousse and little apple pie instead. Two individual milk pots, to take the tablets with. A flavour rating of 8.2/10!

I ate all of this odd feast slowly as I watched the TV, feet up on the swivel chair. The eye-lids drooping, trying to stay awake another fifteen-minutes to view the Kitchen Nightmare program.

I nodded-off, and woke up as the programme was just ending! Tsk! I forced myself up to get the pots washed and have a wee-wee and crawled back into the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-sickening beige-coloured, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety recliner.

After a couple of hours Thought-Storming, with the odd minute-long nod-off, I’m glad to report… Zzzz, Sweet Morpheus arrived! And most appreciated he was!

Inchcock Today – Thursday 23rd June 2020: A good job I don’t suffer from atychiphobia!

TFZers at the Ball?

Thursday 23rd June 2020

French: Jeudi 23 Juin 2020

03:20hrs: On stirring back into ersatz-life, the urgent need for a wee-wee, forced me out of the c1968 recliner, up onto my pins, lunged for the walking stick, and to try to avoid any urge incontinence, as quickly as I could manage it, hobbled over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). The mode of wee-wee had changed back to an OSUAD (Orangey-Sprinkly-Unpainful-After-Dribble) type for once. Which was welcome. The PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribble), was less.

I went to put the kettle on and tried taking decent snaps of the dark morning view.

Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived with the usual stagging tummy pains. This time it was followed this some nervous-making escapages of wind. So, another nippy-limp was required, to the wet room. This photo of my arm is a mystery to me! I found it on the SD later. Why I took it, or if it was another mistaken-taken one, well? It on the SD card, between the morning sky shot and the hemadynamometer picture, so I must have taken it in the kitchenette?

The Throne Session went better than it has done for weeks. Painful, yes, but they always are since the stroke. Not too pungent or pervasive, only specs of blood, and it was all over so quickly. Yee-Ha! I washed my dandies and contact areas and back to the kitchen.

I made a mug of Extra Strong Assam tea and left it to brew stronger. Then got the Health Checks done. Starting with the BP sphygmomanometer. All the readings looked good!

The new thermometer would not work, I changed the batteries, and this made no difference whatsoever. Kroinkles! I used the old stick one that just showed as ‘Low’. I’m not sure it’s ever showed anything else since I bought it. Hehehe!

I also found this photo on the SD later. Why I took it, or if it was another mistaken-taken one, well?

It was taken before the BP one? Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The energumen Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing-entities, Fire alarms I cannot hear, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s annoy and scare the hell out of Inchcock mission?

I was worried a bit, in case I’d been having memory-blanks again. The way my mind is this morning, it’s a good job I’m writing everything down, recording notes to use on here.

For some reason, this brought thoughts of St Anns Health Centre visit for the podiatrist, next Monday. Specifically, when I came out of the Nursing Home after the Stroke, and couldn’t get my toenails cut then, a nurse phoned them at this place and booked me in. I had to get an early bus to get there.

I arrived with the walker, it took what seemed ages and a long way around the route to get into the place (See photo above). Steps I couldn’t climb didn’t help! Then, they refused to do my toenails, I had too many ‘issues’!

What chance do I stand now? I’ve been diagnosed with diabetes, axonotmesis neurotmesis neuropraxia. Also, the neurotransmitter nerves dying all down my right side. Saccades since my last failed visit? And am having troubles with the INR blood level! So what chances do I have of them cutting my nails this time? The Sherwood Health Centre, who usually do me, but cannot book me in until November 28th, with the queue of people in the same boat as I am, told Deana to try St Anns. My spirits sank at the thought.

Looking at the plates of meat, I felt even less confident. They look so anaemic and bloodless, and the toenails, surely they will see the agony they are causing me, and help me out with a little clipping? Mmm!

This may sound like an old, pathetic, sad, not-coping very well geezer’s desperate plea for help. That’s because it is! Gragnangles!

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjabi tea, the last one went cold. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley made me spill the milk. Flagtoggles!

I took several photographs of the view outside, the lighting with the sun slowly coming up from behind, and some grey clouds, I thought, gave them a differentness? The last one was taken from the pod (balcony). The white spot on this one, is a reflection of the light bulb – I think?

When I got on the computer, it became glaringly evident that Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were starting to play up again. Ever-correcting and making mistakes. So frustrating and time-consuming. But I got on with the job, finally, hours and three wee-wees later, I got it finished and posted it off to WordPress.

Off to make another brew, Glengettie Gold this time (one of my few pleasures in life – are you crying at my patheticness yet? Hahaha!)

I went on Amazon to do some bought product revues. The so-called lemon disinfectant, I gave Two Stars. The Hoisin sauce, I gave five (top).

It was late enough now, for to bother Jenny, and ring her for help with arranging the taxi for Monday. Stuttering Stephanie visited me, Tsk! Jenny said ‘No Problem’, and she would get back to me when sorted. Bless her!

I went to get a rinse, and minutes later, Jen rang back. She had made the pick-up for 08:45hrs, to be on the safe side for me get there in good time for the 09:10hrs appointment. Knowing of my lack of confidence in getting the toes cut at that place before, she reminded me to tell them that the Sherwood Health Centre informed Lap-top dancer and Warden Deana, to ring St Anns when they could not fit me in. Which I will do, thanks, Ma’m.

I forgot to mention to Jenny that I had ordered some Self-Raising flour for her on Morrisons order for next Tuesday, and also forgot to ask her if she’d be kind enough to make a note for me like she did last time, in case Stuttering Stephanie kicks off when I’m in the taxi. So, I rang Jenny back, told her about the flour, and forgot all about asking about the note. Puggleclump-dimwit! 

I went on the long-overdo Facebooking catch-up. Then on the WordPress Reader section.

But, necessitation, necessitated the need of new graphicalisationing needing to be done. Or the IAABW (Inchcock Alamalgated Association of Blog-Waffling) will come to an end! So, onto CorelDraw, to make some up. Hehe!

Getting the meal prepared, and with his usual perfect timing, my Xyrophobia suffering, over amour-propred Brother-in-law Pete, rang, to update me on his treatment process.  He’s going back in the City Hospital on Monday for eight-hours of being micro-waved! It’s a big thing for the lad, but he sounded pretty-much ready for it. He may go home ‘Glowing!’, and aliens might try to contact him through the ether!  Hehe!  So this soon put me in my place, Monday, the same day as I’m going hopefully anyway, to get the toenails and feet treated, Pete’s going into the hospital to get fried, irradiated, and chat up the nurses for eight hours. Hahaha!

Best of luck, Pete, don’t fret, but I know you will. I remember when you fell asleep and fell off of the settee arm, and broke your neck! (The things you’ve done to get all of your sick-pay allowances! Hahaha!) Jane will be waiting, so you must get back safe, mate!

I got the nosh prepared and served up.

Two beefburgers, canned potatoes, tinned garden peas, tomatoes, two part-baked rolls. Apple and red grapes, followed by a fruit mousse.

I got the pots washed and had an attack from Dizzy Dennis while doing so! I am now back to one milk jug, the pretty tall one, bit-the-dust, as it hit the floor and shattered! Picking the mess up was not a pleasant task, pain-wise! Crigglebonkitis!

Got settled, and once again, Sweet Morpheus was unwilling to enfold me.

Inchcockski – Wednesday 22nd July 2020: All confusionalisticalisms today!

TFZer Angel, Shirley

Wednesday 22nd July 2020

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 22ain Gorffennaf 2020

03:00hrs: I regained semi-consciousness, and stayed there, half-in and hanging half-out of, the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, pondering over the need-to-do things that had instantly started to invade my mind. But they were soon abandoned, by the need, desperate as well, for the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket).

I removed my cumbersomely oversized sagging-stomached body from the recliner, and such was the need for a wee-wee, I hobbled over to the bucket, without using the stick! The leak was of the WTP (Weak-Trickling-Painful) mode. The PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribble) took longer to stop than the entire wee-weeing did. Putting Little-Inchy away, my balance failed.

Luckily for me, the four-pronged walking stick was nearby. Which told me why the bucket was so full, I must have had a fair-few nocturnal visits for a wee-wee earlier, although I can’t remember doing so. (Oh, dear, dear, dear)

I somehow managed to get the fullish bucket, and still use the stick to get Whoopsiedangleplop-free, to the kitchenette. Signs of a Smug-Mode developing! 

Where I got the kettle on then washed and sanitised the EOGPB. Washed my hands, and opened the light and view-blocking, letting in rain, new window, the terrible ‘Hum’ was so loud again.

I took a couple of snaps of the morning view with the Nokia camera. No, the Nikon camera!  I used the Aperture Priority setting, they didn’t come out too badly, I thought. The street lights on Winchester Street going down into Sherwood, especially on the bottom one, giving it an eerie appearance.

Made the brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did and got the medications out. The Health Checks on the sphygmomanometer showed the SYS had come down a bit! Good!

The chemist forgetting (Again!) to take out the Furesomide tablets from the pods gave me the problem of sorting out which pill was which! I only take the Furesomide (Anti-water-retention) as and when needed, and they are not, in fact, the legs have gone all skinny? Grumph!

Hope I got it right. Still, I mustn’t complain about Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, it’s not forced to be their fault. And, the poor things have all the Corona Virus problems to live with, so I can’t really blame them for trying to kill off the odd old fart who’s become a right nuisance. Glunglegnatsworths!

I was about to start on the updating of the Tuesday blog, and the innards demanded my attention to be directed to the Porcelain Throne, with an imperativeness. I got up, grabbed the four-pronged stick, and waddled my way to the wet-room.

The colon-controlled evacuation started and completed quickly, and more painfully than for a long time. Argh! Hehe! Not messy at all, and, for once the excessively large torpedo clunked into the bowl with a thud! No mess, only the tiniest bit of blood. The after-aroma was not as debilitating as usual. Haha! The incredible thing was that the flush cleared everything away on the first pull! This hasn’t happened for months?

The poor old toes and feet were so painful, I could well have done with not stubbing the toes on the metal leg of the raised seat as I got up and turned around! I think my taking this picture of the plates too close-up, somehow made them paler than they really were, and the black spot on the hallux, came out blue, and the mat came out darker than it really was? I’m confused as to what I really did wrong with this snap. I’ll try again when I do the ablutions.

Not one of my bestest photographs. No problems with it depicting the Howard Hughes toenails, though. Hey-Ho! As Tim Price wittily said in a comment: “Maybe you could use the electric can opener to cut you toenails. Hmm, Chuck that idea, you might open a toe or two in the process“, Hahaha! I do like Tim’s wit and humour; it keeps me going and gives me a laugh!

I cleaned up and got back to the computer. A ‘Determinate-Mode was engaged, and I pressed sedulously on with the updating of Wednesday’s diary. I got things finished at long last. Sent off the links, and checked the emails.

A Convid-19 update had been sent to me. We are not controlling this virus yet. I wonder if an effective vaccine will come through in time, if at all.

I got the urge for a cuppa and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. Then got carried away with sorting and readying a couple of black bags of waste, and getting some recyclables into the big white bag. A little bit extra each day, and by the time I’m a 110, I anticipate I should have caught up with 50% the junk needing to be cleared. Demoralising, innit?

I went to wash the tea mug and unthinkingly used the right hand to hold the cup, as I emptied the bowl with the left hand. It took me a while to clean the floor, and dry by belly and legs. Klumperski! 

I started this blog off, finally! After a few hours, I had to stop. Time for the ablutions to be done, as Amazon says that the lens cleaners are arriving today. So, off to the wet room, I trotted. Well, limped!

I took a picture of the pins before taking a shower, the one afterwards. These were both similar to the colour my eyes sore… I mean, saw. Hehehe!

During the ablutioning, I had to take no less than five wee-wees! And they were powerful, no control of them, and actually hurt! Then I remembered! Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store’s cock-up with the tablets was the cause! More worryingly, I now know I took a Furesomide tablet, but have no idea if it was the Codeine or the much-needed Beta-Blocker that I missed! Thank you Carrington Chemist!

The veins were coming up a little, showing through more. Thrombophlebitis and spider veins, mainly. The Clopidogrel-allergy patterning might be coming back, too. I hope it does come back. It’ll make for some artistic arty photographs for me to show-off! Haha!

Where was I? I got lost a bit there, sorry. Ah, the ablutions! Well, they went without too many dropsies, Toothache Thomas was less painful, and no toe-stubbings! (Head sways with pride and swank) I got certain areas medicated, it took me a long time to stop Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding, but no other hassle, and dressed. Smug-Mode was now coming on!

Then I got shelling the pod peas for later. I reckon there must have been about twenty peas shot off into the depths of any and all hiding places in the kitchen. There was also about nine peas that I just couldn’t find to retrieve. Ah-well! 

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana (Excellent tasty tea!) and back to the computer. I thought (I do that sometimes, you know!) I’ll check on Morrisons to see when the next delivery slot is available. I got an order in, but late in the day for me, Tsk! For Tuesday 28th July, between 10:00> 1800hrs. Which falls on Tisha B’Av, and the 25-hour fast. Oh, dearie me! Oh, no, that is on the following Thursday. Phew!

They had some stuff they have not had in stock for a while. Of course, whether they still will when the order comes, must be open to question! Still, I ordered some self-raising flour for Jenny, two bags. They had some lemon bleach, fresh-made sweet-potato fritters, Seafood Surami sticks, and raspberry ripple mousse, so I ordered some of them, too! We’ll see what arrives Tuesday, and perhaps have a laugh at the substitutions they make. Humph!

Halfway through doing the fooder order, the intercom sounded. Which I found surprising that I hear, what with ‘Hum’ blazing away, and the drilling from above at the time. A young lady from Amazon was admitted, and I made my way to the door. I found a little parcel and the INR test result letter was sticking in the letterbox.

I took them out, and the young lady arrived and put the parcel with the lens cleaning kit on the floor for me. She kept her distance well, bless her. I thanked her from a distance, not sure if she heard me, she was like grease-lightning. Hehehe!

I took the things through to the front hovel, erm, room, and put them on the towel airer, to take photographs of them.

I had the first proper dizzy of the day. Knocking over the airer as I lunged to grab onto the £300, c1968, second-hand recliner to stop myself going over!

The flat airer has now only got two plastic grippers left for it to use as support! I broke another one! I may have to stop using it, cause it’s a bit dangerous with so little support holding it in position. I may have to see what Amazon is offering price-wise. Tsk!

I opened the two parcels first. The individual lens cleaner pen on the right of the picture is the same make and model as the one I’ve been using. It is an excellent, sturdy, easy to use, tool. The multi-kit one, was cheaper than the single one, so I don’t expect much from it, but it’s a handy stand-bye. The blood test results was a low one again, but fortunately, not low enough to have to go back on the injections. I wouldn’t have minded really; it would have given me an opportunity for more camera practise. Hehe!

It then dawned on, the appointment for the next test, falls on the day as the St Anns Podiatry appointment, to get the toenails cut at the clinic! Oh, dear! So I’ll ring Warden Deans after her lunch break is over, and ask her to ring the Phlebotomy unit and try to get them to do it on Tuesday instead, if possible. Grumblecronkackers! In fact, I might try to myself, I think the lady last time I rang, had a voice that carries, just like Deana’s does. I’ll do it now! Now, where did I write the number down when Nurse Hristina gave it to me (the number!) Ah, gorrit!

I called them, in a queue, got through, what a to-do! I really struggled to hear the lady, very poor line. I think the blood test has been changed to Tuesday. T’was a proper struggle to understand. I felt all uncertain afterwards, oh, dear! I shall ask for help in future, I think the lady was not impressed when Stuttering Stephanie came into the conversation. Feel a right fool now!

I was a bit uptight, and as I was replacing the handset, I had a bit of a wobble… and put my hand out, to stop my going over, and I pressed the Alert-Alarm button! The controller was okay about it when I explained my error. But, I feel uncomfortable about things and uncertain.

I should have asked Jenny to call for me, but I don’t like to bother folks. I’m going to ask her to call a taxi for me though, she said if I need one again to let her know. Not know, she’ll be eating. I must remember to later on! 

I feel, all incongruous, self-conscious, insecure and irritable with myself now.

I need page top graphics, so I went on CorelDraw to make some up. And keep my mind working, away from my embarrassments. I got just one done, and the weariness and dropping eye-lids started! I managed to get a template done for tomorrows diary, though.

All shot to pieces mentally now, and still so irritable with myself. For the forgetfulness, setting the alarm off, being daft enough to think I could make the phone call to the Phlebotomy and expecting to understand all she said to me!

I’ve had enough, so I’ll get the meal prepared, and feast on it!

True to my inabilities to get owt right, I made far too much fodder on the plate! Obviously, I could not eat it all. But what I did eat, tasted marvellous! 8.5/10!

I got the pots washed up, had about my thirtieth wee-wee of the day (Nearly all of them of the VSWAO [Viciously-Spraying-Wildy-All-Over]) variety. This told me that the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, had achieved there Inchcock-Hating aim to try and kill me off, and I must have taken a Furesomide tablet, and not the Beta-blocker.

If it is possible that I can come back and do a bit of haunting after snuffing it, I hope this chemist is still in business, I’d love to get my own back on them. Just a thought! 

I settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, broken-down, uncomfortable, rusty, rusty, rickety recliner. I put the TV on as an aid to my falling asleep, but it didn’t work.

It was still early, and I lay there, pondering and fretting over my failures of the day, and a message came through on my Nokia mobile. I opened messages and selected the incoming box, and got this message: ‘EEMSS – This message cannot be displayed’.

If anyone can explain to me what or who, is EEMSS, I would appreciate it.

I did a Google search in the morning, but nothing was found relating to mobile phones? I realise my c1980 model mobile may not be able to do much other than receive and make calls, but that suits me. It avoids me getting confused. (I can get into this state, dead-easily you know!) Haha! And with the Peripheral Neuropathy making using the small buttons, more than difficult at times.

With Sweet Morpheus denying me, I got up out of the c1968 recliner, got the stick and took a wee-wee, then woggled my lumpishly shaped torso to the kitchen, to make a brew of Glengettie tea. The sun was going down, the clouds were beautiful, and I decided to fetch the camera to take some shots.

I walked straight into the door frame again with the right shoulder! This started Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off, I knocked some stuff off of the corner cabinet, it hurt, and I swore! If I had not got up to go to the kitchen, this would have been the first day in months, that I hadn’t walked into anything. A possible record lost, now! Tsk!

I replaced the dislodged items, got the camera, and had to wait a few minutes for things to settle down, as Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were making it difficult for me with loss of touch-senses on my right-hand side. But I was determined to get some pictures of the amazing sky, I don’t know why? I made a sigh! (Poetry now? Hahaha!)

By the time I’d guzzled the mug of tea, the nerve-ends had returned to a working condition, and the sky had not changed, still a wonderful sight.

I returned to the uncomfortable, rickety recliner, and turned off the TV, put the quilt over my eyes and waited for sleep to arrive. It was a long wait!