Inchcock Today: Wednesday November 2nd, 2022

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I bounded out of the recliner, did some skipping, touching-toes, and a few press-ups, and went onto the balcony for the hip hinges and Tai-Chee exercises. I yodelled as was worked the weights. I gave out a loud “Whoop!” as I made a perfect double-flip-over loop.
NokiaI grabbed my Nokia G400, Android 13, 5G, 128GB, 6GB RAM, Glass front (Gorilla Glass 3.45), aluminium framed, Nano-SIM, GPS, GALILEO, microSDXC (dedicated slot), LED flash, HDR, panorama, FM radio, Type-C 2.0, USB. With On-The-Go Features; Sensors Fingerprint (side & rear-mounted), accelerometer, gyro, proximity, compass, and barometer. Li-Po 5000 mAh, non-removable. Charging Fast charging 20W – Power Delivery 3.0, N1530DL £345.25 mobile phone, and rang King Charles to see how he was going on and asked if he needed anyone else topping… Hahaha!
02:30hrs: Then I woke up, belched and got the taste of the cheesy potatoes I had last night come up my throat, and I took a swig of Tonic Water I’d flavoured with Roses lime juice – the two tastes did not go well together. But they blended together enough for me to get out of the £300, used, second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly Karki-beige coloured, crumb containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner, on a mission to get myself a good string mug of tea, Glengettie perhaps, to rid my mouth and tongue of the terrible taste.
I caught my balance and was feeling in better shape than of late. Of course, that was corporeal.

Mentally I was a wreck; Thoughts wandered into my mind at will, no chance of me sorting out any that may need attention or were important though… The need for the Porcelain Throne arose. Yesterday morning the evacuation was rock solid torpedo style – knowing my cunning innards have the ability to alternate twixt brick-like torpedoes and slimy-sludge on each visit, I anticipated that Trotsky Terence would be in charge this morning. How wrong I was!
I sat there on the Throne and had to force things along painfully. I had the hearing aids in, so heard a rare plop every now and then as another one of the pebble-sized products was pressured-free, and it was like this for ages!
What made it more frustrating was that I’d left the crossword book in the three-wheeled walker trolley from yesterday! The cracks in the wet room ceiling seem to have reduced? I could only see 21 today? I’m sure there were 34 yesterday?
It must have been a good ten minutes or more before the last of the dark brown hazelnut-shaped turds was pressured into evacuating! What a relief I felt! But not for long; as I got up to clean things, I felt poor warm blood running down my inner thighs. I cleaned things up and gently applied some Germoloid ointment onto the pained area at the rear! Real Relief!
Had a stand-up wash.
I had a farce with trying to put in the Chloramphenicol antibiotic eye drops. More went down the cheek, in the nose and mouth than ever got close to the eyes! I got dressed and took a Senna tablet, just the one, to try to ease the concrete rear-end passengers’ trip to freedom on the next visit.

This could prove to be a mistake if Trotsky Terence makes a comeback on my next visit to the Porcelain Throne?
To the kitchen to make a brew of tea. This time it will be a tasty Thompson’s Punjana The kettle was put on.
I took this shot of the car park below from the kitchenette window. It was drizzling with rain at the time, but I’m blown if I can see any in this rather decent picture? To the balcony…
Where I spotted the rain-induced mudslide from the nearby Woodthorpe Grange Park, had made another entrance into the end car park.
I think there is a drain under the water, but obviously, it isn’t coping very well when we get a rainstorm. The people taking the dogs for a walk and crap go via this route, coming and going… I’ve forgotten why I said this now! Dementia Doreen! I can say this now the Doctor’s confirmed my latest ailment. Hehehe!

Sounded, and in came . I had forgotten to unlock the front door again! apart from giving me a sideways glance and tutting as he came in, he was fine about it. Haha!
What a great Carer Ricard is. As we got into the room, he produced a list in an envelope of all my medications and how much and when they are given. Worra, great chap! I thanked him profusely and pulled out the pink gins I got for him yesterday at Lidl’s. That was a marvellous thing to do for me; another worry over the trip to the hospital was now sorted! Merci Mon Ami, Richard!
I fear he was over-yawning again. But this didn’t stop us from having a little natter and laugh after he gave me the medications.
After he’s left, taking the waste bags with him, I found a bag with some bottled water, a rice meal and chilli in it – it was for Richard! Thanks again, Doreen!

Back to the computer. This time, thanks to Jenny, I was expecting it. Yet an hour or so later, it came back on? And seemed a little quicker. But an hour later, it was back to slow coaching. We’ll see if it goes off again… if they are upgrading, it must surely go off again? Or the upgrading has failed… hard to believe from Liberty Global Virgin Media, Hahaha!

So, I got a meal made up. It looked good, and most of it was fine. Those gorgeous Frikadellens tasted superb!
The tomatoes were just grand and sweet flavoured, both yellow and red ones.
The Lidl Parmesan potatoes, let it down. They were so tasteless! But looked and smelt good? Taste: 6/10.

GC sleepSat down to wait for the Carer to arrive . And that was it until the Evening arrived, and I got a rude awakening stirring me back to life when the chimed from the power box in front of me, forcing a Shake, Rattle & Roll in surprise, and I all but fell out of the recliner!
The lad Jozeph looked so weary and tired, he’s even caught the yawning bug from Richard – both hard-working Carers. It looked so odd when yawned with his facemask on. Hehehe!
I tried to cheer him up. He got the medications sorted. He even cleaned the Pentax measure-dose pot for me and returned it to the carer’s desk. Had to push him to select a can of pop in thanks. Walked to the door to lock it, and he took the waste bags to the shoot with him.

GC sleepI thought I’d try the computer again to see if it was reconnected yet, to update this blog. But my body and mind had other ideas for me… I again!
And I stayed there for hours. But it was an often broken sleep, interspersed with weird dreams. Short odd senseless ones and I woke up after each one. At least, it felt like I did, to lay there trying to fathom out what it was all about, then drift off and have another dream that was short and unfathomable to me. Repetition is the word needed here.

PART RECOLLECTIONS OF THE FIRST DREAM

I dreamt I was an auctioneer...
Folks were bidding to buy gunpowder?
But I knew it was only chowder flour?
Some as they ran to their helicopter…
Said, “Aha, we’ll blow up another tower!”
A policeman I.D.’d himself, a CID inspector…
He asked them to reconsider…
Cause there had no M.O.T. for their copter…
This dream couldn’t have been gimpier!

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Evening all!

Inchcock: Tuesday 4th October 2022

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03:40hrs: I bestirred, somewhat reluctantly, even though I had had a long but often interrupted total of six hours minimum asleep. The jerking awakes were frequent last night, although getting back to sleep was no bother.
I made the balance moves and went up to the kitchen. Where I put on the kettle, took this photo of the morning view, which came out a little better for me this morning. 
Then made a Glengettie brew.

Sphygmomanometerisationing revealed that the Blood Pressure came out in the Hypertension Red-High One, again. So at least it’s gone down from yesterday.
I don’t know why, but I sense that it will tumble again soon. My IQ told me so as I was taking a drink of Glengettie.

The body temperature had gone down a smidgeon as well.

The Heartbeat/pulse was still high, mind you. At 94 bpm.

Burst forth, I assumed it was Carer Richard arriving to sort out the medications. But No!

It was the though. But not Richard. I thought the lad looked a little rough yesterday. I asked the young carer who arrived, is Richard poorly? He said Yes, I’m afraid so. Not good news. I said how sorry I was and what a decent chap Richard was but kept the spirits up for the new, although experienced Carer, with the name of Shekiel. He seemed a sociable type of lad, and we had a chinwag as he did the medications. Bade him farewell.

I decided to get the ablutions done rather late on today, mind you. I’ll have to rush in case the Phlebotomy Nurse Christina arrives early.
Took the clothes I was going to wear in the wet room with me and set to the job in hand. Nasal clearing, teeth-cleaning, and then shaving. Only one cut again today.
I’d forgotten to get the hook on the curtain back on. As I got my flobby-bellied lump in the shower, I pulled the curtains around to stop the water spraying all over, and another hook shot off! Tsk!

I must get them both back on today; it’s just that getting up on the stepladders to rebook them is a bit risky when I can’t see the holes or the steps on the ladder. It’ll be worse today, of the   in the right eye. That also has playing up today, and the left eye is definitely getting more attention from its own cataract. If I don’t get it done soon, I’ll be so handicapped.

However, the showering went very well after that. No head-butting the power box, no dizzies… Dried off and then got the sorted out without any ado, just in case Hristina arrived early. I don’t want any more embarrassment. Hehe!
Apart from the regulation agony of creaming , things went even smoother with the toes (Using the picker-upper) Germoloiding. Got the olive oil in the ears. I did spot a new bruise on the tummy bulge, but there was no hurt attached to it; no idea how I got it. Phorpained gelled the knees.

It’s still the ones that are the most bothersome at this moment…  soon changed that later.
I pressed on, got dressed, and took the clothes take off to the laundry bag.
Perfect Timing, the intercom flashed, and it was Hristina arriving at the flats. A bit of luck there, avoiding any of my bare flabby flesh being imposed on anyone. sounded, and in came the gorgeous nurse Hristina, with perfect timing.
As Hristina was taking the blood, she trod on the left foot’s ingrowing toenail. Apologising, she caught free-standing Metal Micky, knocking him over, and the handle landed straight on top of my right foot’s ingrowing toenail! The poor gal felt so guilty, but we still managed a laugh about it. She can do no wrong as far as I’m concerned!
I walked to the door, slipping her a small bottle of Rose, “Oh, I love Rosso”, she said. Which so cheered me up to please her.

Then back on the computer again. I’d noticed a lack of noise coming from this morning? I do hope he’s alright, fit and well, and not laying injured in a crumpled heap, bleeding to death up there in his flat.

Look at the time. (Oh, you can’t see it can you?) It’s Gone 14:009hrs already! What happened? Did I have a mind blank?

I’ll get some updating done on the words file, ah! No, I’ll order a belt from Amazon first. All done. Back to the word list and Word Hippo.

Is kicking off again. Concentration shattered! At least she started much later in the day this time.

Shannon arrived. Got the medications sorted. She checked the food dates in the fridge; not much in there at the moment, but Shannon found three out of dates that had to be ditched. Chose a thank you treat, and off she went taking the black bag with her to the chute. ♥

Sleep was resistant again. No idea what time I nodded off, but was in the morning. I was so fatigued as well, but Sweet Morpheus wasn’t having it. Humph and !

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock: Thursday 29th September 2022 – Cartoon, Ode, Diary

Cost Of Living Cartoon

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The Messiest of Days!

23:55hrs: I shot awake with a new problem on my mind… I’d realised as I lay there, unable to sleep due to the Thought Storms, that I’d got the Morrison order coming at the same time as I should be at the Doctors surgery this morning!
I tumbled my rhinoceros-like but wobbly body from the c1966 recliner and got the computer on to change the delivery time. But it would not let me!
I tried their helpline… Helpline? Ha! An hour later, after going through the reasons available that I could use, but finding none about delivery time changes, I got to a message centre on their helpline…Helpline? Ha! I explain the reasons for my wanting to change the delivery time to later in the day, whichever suits them. I even told them of my dementia and being partially disabled, thinking it might spark a bit of compassion and help. Then, later on, I was so glad to see a message from them in the inbox. “How kind of them”, I thought. This is the message I got back:

In a mess now, just don’t know what will happen or what I can do?

Did the Health Checks.
04:20hrs now, I must get the ablutionisationing done next.

The Blood Pressure was in the Hyper Red One again.
The pulse had shot up, likely due to my getting all het-up again over my damned cock-ups with the doctors’ appointments, then the food delivery from Morrison’s.

Started. The end hook came off of the shower curtain again, which meant to replace it; I’d need to go from the wet room through the hallway into the end room and get the step ladders. Through the hall, back into the wet room. Then risk an climbing up the steps, no doubt cutting my finger on the hook as door usual, then get safely through the climbing down the steps, and back through the hallway to the back room and replace the step ladders. Back to the wet room. I thought Sod that, not with the luck I’m having.
The teggie-cleaning went okay. The shaving was a smidge ridden. So many cuts that I lost count of them. Nothing serious, though.
I enjoyed the showering. It was Dizzy Dennis, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, free, and headbutting the panel. I wasn’t about to go into Smug-Mode…  Oh no!
I dried off without knocking anything off of the floor cabinets, no .

Started a new tube of Daktacort cream to use on Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. & .

Germoloided
At least there was no pain from this, just blessed, cooling relief. These tubes are now £6.50 each at Sainsbury’s. Humph!

Phorpain gelled both knees and then rubbed some into and around the ball joint.

Despite the cadaver colouring of my lower limbs, which I can worry about at a later date. (Well, maybe) The ulcers were the calmest they’ve been for years. And, the bloating had all gone now. Oh, and not a lot of bother from Peripheral Pete’s leg dances or any involuntary Hitler salutes either. So that was good!

Got dressed and went into the kitchen to make the first brew of tea, Thompson’s Punjana.
I tried a different setting on the Lumix this time. Hand Held Night. I was not overly impressed. The screen said it takes several shots together to reduce blurring. Mmm?

All done. Now to get the things I’ll need into the pockets of the jackets.

No Carer had called. So down to the lobby for the EasyLink bus. It did not show up. I waited half an hour. Had a good look outside in case they had gone to the wrong flats block.

Back up to the flat. Morrison food arrived. I got it put away, put away.

Phoned Meridian about medications they are sorting. Scary! Nothing happened, of course. Stripped of the outer clothing and tried to relax a bit. Put Deana’s flowers in the sink.

Rang EasyLink. They said the bus was due at 10:00hrs.  

I had to rush around getting the clothing back on again to get down again in time. I went through the link walk to see if Deana might be there, but she was busy elsewhere, on her own again. I got out and to the waiting driver just as he was about to give up on me. But he was a little early, bless him.

Got to the doctor in plenty of time. Went in and to the reception. It seems that I didn’t have an appointment today! What? Dr Vindla came to me as I was seated, waiting for a decision on what to do about me. She said she’ll do my flu jab, and took me into her room and did just that for me. Her lips curled, and a smile partly broke out as she stuck the hypo in my arm, sending me to the reception, saying I will be given another appointment for the Severe Frailty Checks. (The brilliant bit of this is that Nurse Nicole is giving the test! ♥♥♥ Yippee!
Thus, I was given a fourth appointment (since August) for the Frailty Test! For Thursday 6th October at 09:00hrs. What are the odds of it being changed again after I’ve arranged with EasyLink for a lift? Cragknangles! I put the date and time on Google Calendar when I got back to the flat. Getting there was delayed by Lidl and my Shopaholic tendencies!

I walked to the Carrington Pharmacy. And bought a tube of Germoloid without really thinking. It cost me £7.49!

Then hobbled to the Lidl store, where I got carried away a smidgeon, buying enough stuff to fill a large carrier bag. Getting on the first bus was a battle; it was crammed with passengers, and I struggled with the trolley walker and the bag of food.
Dropped off in Sherwood, and I limped over to the bus stop to catch the 40 bus up the hill to the flats. Got inside and managed to catch poor overworked Deana. Still on her own. She said she’s ring EasyLink for me about the lift tomorrow. Not heard anything yet, but still hoping to get lifted.

It looked a little healthier with the Morrisons and now the Aldi stuff in the fridge. Is that the right word? I’ve decided tonight to have the Frikadellen and sliced potatoes, with some tomatoes for the meal. It really is years since I’ve had these, back in the days before they even made Veggie-Frikadellens.

Phoned Meridian about medications they are still sorting, getting medications for eight hours ago sorted.

Esther turned up. I gave her an intimidating look that I could muster. (It didn’t work) and asked outright; How much will you be charging this week after helping yourself to my drinks and charging me £20 last week, because I’m short on funds! “Nothing!” she lied!
Later she moaned about the machines being broken down and how long it took her to get the washing done and mentioned a fiver. So, I gave her all the change I could find, only £4.70. Later she went through my pockets and found some odd coins – Cheeky-Poo! So I gave her the 30p I was short, and a penny extra! Hahaha!

The New Meridian lady came up to see me for a chat. Nice patient, gal. She took the flowers down with her for Deana. Can I remember her name? No! Which is surprising for an educated young man like me. Ahem!

I was showing interest in kicking off. She has been known to throw a few mini-shakes for an hour, not often – but then the barm-storming ball-joint-wrenching shoulder shuddering starts in earnest. I can feel her warming up[ for one now!

The ticker rate was slowing down nicely. That’s the thing that worried me an iota. Was a bit of a pest still. Reflux Roger was giving me some sharp bursts of wind and some rapid outbursts of wind. Although they are now getting less frequent. Having a nice female in the flat is tantamount to taking CBD, you know? For me anyway!

Oh, I forgot to mention this morning’s after-shower session with Glenda. Will suffice!

I had a bottle of Morrison’s Raspberry & Blackberry Spring Water on the computer side. It was refreshing and is now about empty. The Roast Vegetable Risotto will do for tomorrow night. I’m going to dine well. In fact, I’ll get cooking now! I got the sliced potatoes seasoned and into the oven.

Then, fifteen minutes later, I got the Frikadellens in the microwave, and I cooked them for two minutes. Getting the potatoes out of the oven, as per usual, and I burnt my right thumb... Which was better than the left one. Cause of the Peripheral Neuropathy being on my right side, it was a painless experience! Hehehe! I think the neurotransmitters must have been out of touch at the time! Got the meal served up, and the only thing OI did not eat or enjoy trying to was the crap Morrisons substituted tasteless Danish bread; they did the same last week, but I gave that one away. I wish I had this one now!
However, this meal attracted a Flavour-Rating of 8.9/10, all the same.

Sinead arrived as I was battling to stay awake to watch a ‘Heartbeat’ episode on Freeview. She was her usual caring self, bless her. Got the medication sorted and inquired what had gone wrong with the morning Carer, as no one had filled in or signed the log sheet?
We had a natter, and I offered her one of the Special Mini Bottles I got from Aldi today. I thought they were dead cute, and Sinead agreed, alcohol-free Aperitivo Rosso. This gal has class; I can see that! ♥

Back to the TV after Sinead departed, I was brokenhearted.

I fell asleep… Nice!

Inchies Tips & Advice for Whippersnappers, Ablutionalisationings & Medicalisationings

ADVICE & TIPS ON FUTURE AILMENTS TO COME

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MedPhorpain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think I got carried away there, sorry!

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

Inchcock Today

Introductory Ode!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tues 5th April 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Better get some nosh sorted out then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inchies Friday Diary: Festivities, gaiety and other fibs! Hehe!

Fort Thomas News Exclusive!

After several years of collecting scientifically challenging reference books, Professor Billum and his partner HRH Lisa, who are now stuck indoors due to the snow, are tackling the job of reducing the number of books in his basement library. He hopes to make room to expand his laboratory and thus, make more room for his medical experiments. Inchcock (rear) said; the task is phenomenal.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Inchies Friday Diary
Jollities, Festivities, Gaiety and other fibs!

I fang you! A decent kip for once; I reckon I only jumped awake about six times overnight. Not good, of course, but better than the preceding three evenings efforts.

By the time I’d clambered tottering dangerously out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, haemorrhoid-testing, rickety recliner and caught my balance, I realised how evil the eyes were this morning. So, first job the drops, let them settle, then put some of the sprays on them. After this, they were no worse, and maybe I imagined it but seemed a little better than when I woke.

The ablutionalisationing was tackled first, even before thinking of making a brew of Glengettie tea (Worrying that?). It might be the fact that each time I woke up during the night, spongy emissions of wind were evacuating out of the rear end, and Reflux Valve Roger was sticking a bit, then bursting forth, painfully for a minute or two? But, I felt a little stinky, I thought – mayhaps the rear end emissions were going on while I was asleep?

I got inside the wet room, and the mind meandered off on its own. I got the shower going! Boing! I totally forgot what the time was, and after getting the teeth done and shaving with only two tiny minor nicks, thus assuming a Smug-Mode… I still didn’t recognise what I’d done at that time, and I merrily whistled (Which is getting harder each time I lose another tooth) and sang gayly to myself as I started doing the medicationalisationings.

MedPhorpainWhich soon put an end to the Smug-Moding, whistling and singing! As usual, I got the potentially most painful job of cleaning and creaming Little Inchies fungal lesion out of the way first. Agony! There are no pain or problems with the Saccades eye drops, Harold’s Haemorrhoids cleaning and creaming, ears oiling, or Arthur Itis Phorpain gelling.

As I was about to increase my level of smugness, it dawned on what time it was… and I’d just used the noisy shower – Guilt overerflowethed!

A Carer arrived, name? Erm… Gorrit, Cassie! She was to take the laundry for me on Fridays, starting today. I had got the bag and capsules softener all ready for her. She did the medicationings, and I treated her to some nibbles and a drink, and off she went.

Onto the computer to finalise yesterdays blog and post it. A message came in on the mobile, it was from Iceland Foods… Ah, I hear you now asking – Why did the pillock have another order from Iceland? The silly old goat had one yesterday?

Ahem! Well, that would be due to my Wednesday and Thursday’s Whoopsiedangleplopping. I made some cheesy potatoes for Richard and got his visiting day wrong. So, I gave them to Valerie, who came. Then Thursday, when Richard was calling, I made another dollop of cheesy potatoes for Richard again – then, I had no potatoes left. Hahaha! So I made a minimum order for today to get some more spuds for myself to have. That’s about right, I think.

The rain started to fall, but not too heavily. Then began to get a little threateningly darker out there.

I took this picture from inside the balcony, too wet to open a window.

Shortly, the Intercom rangeth. The Iceland delivery had arrived. I pressed him in, and I hoped it would not be the same driver as yesterday, or he might think me a bit of an idiot having a dirty-great big order, then another on the following day. He’d be right if he did, by the way!

He carried the bag of spuds separately, only two carrier bags, and he took them into the kitchen for me. Haha! I wish the bloke yesterday had taken the eight bags into the kitchenette for me.

I thanked him and let him choose which can of plonk he fancied, and off he trotted with a cheery farewell.

I’m glad I remembered to get the drain-unblocker. Not a lot to sort out this time. I got some cheapo Beef Jerky to go with the freebies to make the minimum order. Oh, and some Cadbury mini rolls.

Sister Jane rang, or did I ring her? One or the other. Dementia Doreen again. Total blank on what we spoke of… indeed am I thinking of yesterday? Sad, innit?

I then rang Obergruppenfürheress, Warden and Ballet Dancer, Deana. Not seen her for a while. The gal was at home. She’d tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 and had been isolating. She hopes to be back on Monday. I said I was ringing to let you know you hadn’t collected your treat bag this week – now I knew why! Said they would keep until Monday. Haha! Nobody tells us owt, do they?

And an hour or so later, the door chime rang out its’ ♫Oh, Susana♫ chime, and in walked Carer Valerie. She had collected my washing for me, and she’d brought it up to me. Bless her cotton socks! She said she’s made sure they were dry enough for me.

So, I got off of the blogging and sorted out the clothes. By gum, that bag holds a lot of stuff. Hehe!

I got in a pickle, found the coat hangers, put some on the door, and spent a good while faffing about. Then realised I was not doing this in a planned, smooth way… Hahaha! 

I meant to put all the rousers together on a rack and jumpers shirts on the other.

Which seemed like a logical thing to do.

However, Dementia Doreen had other ideas for me. I ended up with a mixture of trews and jammies on one rack and trews, jumpers and shirts on the other. Ah, well, at least I got them hung so the creases can fall out a bit.

The toploftical, unforthcoming, ascetic, eremitic, aloof, sniffy attituded Herbert had been giving me some tapping on and off for an hour or so. Now, he’s just gone into Turbo-Tapping and Banging mode! What a Git! Mind you, let’s not forget my Whoopsiedangleplop with using the shower early in the day? The difference, I think, is snot-bag superior Herbert enjoys doing it on purpose?

I made a rare mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. As the rain stopped and the sun fought its way through to shine on Inchcock Towers… well, Woodthorpe Court then. Hehehe! I grabbed the Canon camera and took this photograph of the view.

Then the hungers-pangs began, and my desire for some more cheesy baked potatoes overcame me. I got up some steam (I was starting to feel a bit weary) and started to prepare the third on the trot (4th Counting Carers Richards and Valerie’s) Cheesy Baked Potatoes meal!

Cheesy Potato Nosh – Flavour Rating 9.3/10!

Note: Only the four half spuds? No, not self-control; I made eight and kept three to cool and have later on (Cunning?). I would have had four, but I dropped one when putting it from oven to pot – it splattered onto the floor and a slipper, which both needed attention, cleaning sorting out. I may have muttered something along the lines of “Oh, bother?” Then, I feasted on the meal, put the tray on the Ottoman, passed wind and belched… and Flake-Out-Time!

Herbert started clanking and clunking away again, and I woke to his mechanical overture. Hehe! Pig!

Luckily it didn’t last too long this time. And I drifted off again. To be woken by the tune of “♫ Oh, Susana… ♫ chiming out. The evening Carer had arrived. She was in a rush, so no chinwagging was permitted on this occasion. Off she trotted, bless her.

I spotted the meal things on the Ottoman, and I took them to be washed and put away. Noticing the lack of wonderful sun-setting after three days of gorgeous one, I stood and had a perusing of the evening sky. I realised that even with the absence of the usually vivid colours for the last few days anyway, there was still a beauty to be beheld.

Getting daft or soft on my old age, or not?

I went onto the computer to work on the blog and visited Facebook, the TFZ and Winwood Heights sites.

Went on CorelDrawing; Herbert was doing the odd banging about, so it was not until gone midnight before I got my head down; off I went and slept a bit better, only about five shooting awakes.

ODE OF THE DAY

Wants (Peace) & Not Wants (Herbert)

Cataract operation, before it’s too late – appealing!
A friend with time for long chinwagging,
Someone who doesn’t hate or finds me appalling…
But I don’t blame them, and that’s a bit galling!
One tablet to stop my shaking and trembling…
The ability to once more try cartwheeling?
The willpower for me to stop earwigging,
A better than Warfarin pill, stop the haemorrhaging,
But most of all, I’d want, after some deep thinking…
The end of people, domineering,
And those who go around sneering,
Those who cannot care have empathy are non-obliging…
The know-alls who go around rubbishing…
Rushing, superior in outlook, verbally scathing…

Compassionless animals, one lives above me,
Above my little independent living flat, you see…
I nicknamed him Herbert, and he’s not trouble-free…
He makes noise at all hours, sometimes the whole day,
He’ll start again today, I guarantee…
He acts superior, and nonchalantly,
But, the things he’s roisterously making go to charity…
The housing officer says no cause to moan, apparently,
So I won’t, or might lose the flat, alackaday!
So untouchable Herbert will carry on noisily…
He’ll keep waking me at night, arbitrarily,
I must resist responding early morningly…
What can be done redeemingly?
Two wrongs don’t make a right, seemingly…

KEEP SAFE IN THE SNOW
Keep safe all of you, affected by the snowstorms please,
If you can, avoid driving and soirees,
Polish your ottomans and tallboys?
And for even more joys…
Try canned beans and saveloys?
Sew the missing button on your corduroys?
Have warming wine delivered by Pomeroys?
Play great music, possibly by the Beachboys?
But don’t contact the killjoys!

Inchcock: Out to feed the ducks

A few years ago, before the onset of the awful Coronavirus onslaught and his latest disabilities, Inchcock used to get out and about. To feed his beloved Mallard Ducks at Arno Hill Park Lake. Taking the safe to feed them pellets and seeds, the old fart was in his element. He was even attempting to learn the quacking language from the Mallards! It gave him someone to talk to, not any humans, naturally.

So looking forward to his day out, he rose early to ensure everything was done and readied on time for him to catch the bus. Took a while to find his keys and bus pass. It did not go well…

——————————————————————————————

05:00hrs: He woke and was soon up and getting on, carefully carrying out his essential ablutionalisationings. Really, he should have got the message and not bothered to go out today. Things did not go too well!

One of his top front teeth cracked, cleaning them. The traditional cut shaving, well, three actually. Nasal cleaner bottle dropped and broken. Banged his head on the sink when he dropped a razor as he bent to pick it up.  Little Inchies fungal lesion started bleeding in the shower.

A late dizzy spell, and he cracked his shoulder on the shower-power box. Things were not going well!

Medicationalisationing the fungal lesion on Little Inchie was particularly painful and brought a few naughty words from the old chap. When after thinking he’s won, the bleeding started again, he cursed with an unexpected venom! He forgot to turn of the heater in the wet room. Going back in to use the Porcelain Throne later, he realised when thereat hit him as he entered the room – stubbing his toe against the creases, feared sock-Glide-Glenda. Things were not going very well!.

However, being used to these many Whoopsiedangleplops and the more frequent  Accifauxpas, he soon felt his old chirpy self again after stopping the bleeding and taking his medications. Then he hoovered the mess up. Not looking very good for today?

He put the computer on to check the times of the buses. But Virgin Media and Liberty-Global top dog Mike Fries had failed yet again.

As Inchcock got everything he hoped together and was moving into the hallway on his way to the door… the wheel fell off of his Walker-guide trolley!

Unfazed, Inchcock retrieved the fallen wheel, and as he picked it up, it somehow morphed into about ten or twelve pieces, then fell on the newly hoovered carpet! Now he was fazed!

He’d missed the bus, of course. Spent the hour swearing, cursing and picking up the bits from the wheel. But it takes a lot to completely destroy Inchcocks spirit. He decided to walk without the guide (having no choice if he was to visit and gossip with his mallards). He set off, full of renewed anticipation for an enjoyable trip on the L9 bus and getting some pleasure from mother nature and the mallard ducks.

A note on the bus stop pole pointed out that service will not be operating today due to roadworks. Back to normal tomorrow. Not a good start this!

Inchie dropped back down into a sort of semi-moroseness, tinged with a high degree of pissed-offeredness! The clot thought perhaps he could go to the Nottingham canal to feed the birds, like the previous week? Then it clicked in; the fool would still not have a bus to use to get there either! What an absolute moron! Things were getting to him, now – Not good!

A Dizzy Dennis visited while he was pondering what to do – followed by a worryingly strong ‘Mind-Fog’, and he sat down on the bus shelter and went into a few minutes of daydreaming mode.

Finally, making up his mind. He’ll climb up the steep gravel footpath into the Woodthorpe Grange Park and have a search to see if he can see any of the wild ducks and hens that frequent it. Mayhaps he thought, I can visit the garden centre as well. Cheered a smidge now, he set off up the hill and began to peruse the woods and paths. But no signs of any wold life, the wasn’t many humans either, but that didn’t bother him.

He legged it down the avenue to the Garden Centre and Tropical Plant House. It was closed! This was not a good day for the old codger, and an iota of self-pity was brewing!

He hobbled around painfully as Arthur Itis kicked off in both knees. Resolutely searching for the wildlife birds. Of course, he had no luck, well, no good luck! Now lousy luck… that was in good supply, and about to get crueller, too!

His Nokia 100 virtually antique mobile phone burst into life, and he dropped it as he fumbled to get at it before it stopped ringing. He didn’t! He fell as he bent to pick it up, fortunately landing in some unstinging nettle bushes, which also cushioned the belly flop fall, right on the epigastrium coeliac plexus (I looked that up to sound clever, Hehe!) which started off Reflux Roger along with Arthur Itis. He had to crawl on all-fours to get to a tree stump, to haul his overweight, blubbery, lardaceous, wobbly-bellied body, back up onto its feet. Cutting his shins as he progressed. It was now a worserer day than ever for the pitiful old goat!

Now, almost a physical and mental wreck, he decided to make for home. Thinking he’d take a shortcut via Winchester Street, as all the aged-whimp wanted, was to get back to the flat, take some painkillers, use the Porcelain Throne, clean up his injuries, and make a good strong brew of Glengettie tea, with dunked shortcake biscuits!

Hahaha! Of course, his plans were stymied; they always are!

The road was blocked off – he might have worked it out earlier when he read the cancelled bus notice, but there you are. To make things worse, it started to rain, and his brolly was still in his broken-wheeled walker-guide trolley back in the flat! Thick as a plank, Inchie!

He did resist crying, but only just. After taking a marathon walk around the park again, he arrived at the lobby doors, wet, in pain, miserable, bloodied, and totally discouraged with life! He’d fought his way through the woods, bushes, rain, the end car park and back to the flats. Showing worrying signs of losing it… Jabbering on to himself and having a distinct twitch in his right eye now… not to mention his trousers being so wet and heavy, his braces were not holding them up far enough.

Once Inchie got inside the dry and warm lobby, the lad immediately began to cheer up a little! History should have told him not to bother!

Residents had gathered in the lift lobby – in vain hopes of one of them working. This just shows not only the stupidity but the banality and hopelessness of Inchcock’s everyday existence! Of course, with the day has been going so wrong, he should have known better than to allow thoughts of semi-contentment and hopes to rise.

Yet astoundingly, the dripping wet, frustrated, injured Inchie wasted no time in legging it limpingly, painfully slowly, up the 24 flights of concert stairs, towards his flat. (Desperate measures call for desperate actions!) He was urgently in need of the Porcelain Throne!

At the flat door, he fumbled about, still dripping wet; he gained access and almost bounced off of the walls in his rush to the Porcelain Throne. Whipped off his wet trousers and protection pants and plonked himself down on the pan… the evacuation began immediately, and it was all over within about a minute. Inchy just sat there, breathing a sigh of relief. Which was tempered by the cleaning up and medicating that needed doing next.

The wet (possibly 85% rainwater – 14% wee-wee, and 1% blood?) PP’s first, they had to be rung out, packed up in plastic bags to later go to the waste chute.

Unbeknownst to Inchcock, Little Inchies fungal lesion had burst open in the tumble he presumes. So that was medicated straight away. The neighbours always know when the Betamethasone cream is applied to the fungal lesion, the loud Argh, and Bloody hells give it away. Inchies day is just not getting any better, is it?

New PPs on,  Piles of clothes into the laundry box. Rubbish bags were taken away.

He found a letter that had been delivered when he returned from taking the waste bags to the chute. It was confirmation from the Council that I am not going to get any attendance allowance. This really rubbed it in for Inchie – Hence his day continued in its ‘Let’s Annoy Inchcock Mode!

Too weary for making and eating any food, Inchie got down in his £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus.

He was still waiting for sleep or at least rest of some sort, about two hours later.

Some thunderclap music from the yobboes on Woodthorpe Park having a party started up. Heavy Metal brand, Inchie thinks.

So he got up and went on the computer to start tomorrows blog off…

And…

Not one of his betterer days!

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Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Impure Inchy – Thursday 4th March 2021 Diary

♥ TFZer Actresses on stage! ♥


Thursday 4th March 2021

Spanish: Jueves 4 de Marzo de 2021

23:40hrs: I removed my over-flabbily-bellied body from the c1968 recliner and utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). A short sharp affair, with a lot of CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) to follow.

No messing about, I got on the computer to create a template for today’s blog. Starting with doing a few graphics on CorelDraw. But, I didn’t get too far, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room. Incidentally, Cartilage Cathy was a lot kinder to me this morning.

It seemed to me that the daily PTDDSB (Porcelain Throne, Daily-Domination-Stakes- Battle) for supremacy in the evacuation was a close thing. Still, a comeback from Constipation Konrad had curbed the rampant messy tendencies of Trotsky Terence for once! So, I had a go at the crossword puzzle as I waited for things to kick-off. Just as yesterday, I didn’t solve a single clue! (Well, I’m consistent, if not capable. Hehehe! The movement started slowly and stayed that way, but no pain or bleeding, and as I said, it was a lot less mess to clean up. I still had to refill the tank by hand though, I think the problem is the fluffy too-thick toilet roll paper.

Back to the grahicalisationing, I went. Then made-up and started this template. Which took me ages to get this far with. Then, I went on to update the Wednesday Diary, at long last. I got it updated fully, emailed the link and went on the WordPress Reader section. Which I enjoyed considerably. Pinterested a couple of photographs, the read and replied to the WP comments that had come in. Some witty puns and quips came on this Thursday.

I was about to start collating the advance templates and realised the hours had shot by; it was time to get the ablutions tended to. As is usual with me, I got into the kitchen and got myself sidetracked once more.

I decided to get the hand-washing done first. But and however – guess who had left the hot water tap (faucet) to run cold? Yes, pickle-brain Inchcock had struck-again! Gawd-blimey, I this far too often! Hence decision had to be made (another Inchcock problem area!) My EQ told me there nothing to do but press on handwashing boiling the water in the kettle and saucepan, for more Whoopsiedangleplops were on their way! He also called me a name, a naughty one!

So, the half-hour or so handwashing exercise took me nearly two hours! Not to mention the scolding of two fingers fetching the kettle to the sink… Oh, I’ve said it! It’s a good job that I was in a slightly better mood today! I washed the long-sleeve jumper, the jammie-bottoms and the pair of long bamboo diabetic socks. The washed ones from yesterday were not fully-dry enough to put on today, so I got a couple of 100% short-ones to adorn after the ablutions to wear.

Then, as I checked the dryness of the other things that were hanging above the kitchen window, with perfect-timing, Peripheral Pete went into an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine! This caused me to drop the coat-hangars and the washing I had in my hand. Belt Cathy Cartilages knee against the floor cupboard, and hit my head against the heater getting back up again!

I made a start on moving the stuff back into the cupboard, but soon lost interest!

My new found emotions of satisfaction, semi-contentment and renewed hopes sank without a trace! I took some painkillers and moped my way to the wet room, leaving the clothes where they had fell on the floor, and swearing a little still, got to the wet room, totally uninterested in what I was there for! Pissed-off would be a quicker way of putting things!

Had I been aware of what was waiting for me, I wouldn’t have gone in! The worse Ablution session in months!

Ablutionalisticalisationing Report:

  • I realised there was no hot water to be gleaned from the sink tap for shaving! But felt sure I would manage using the hottish water from the shower-head without any bother (What an idiot!)
  • Have you ever had to keep going to the other side of the wet room, and with Peripheral Pete shaking me about like a good un, repeatedly, bring the shower-head, which only just reaches the sink, and spraying the tepid water all over yourself and the room? It’s not easy! The cleaning up afterwards wasn’t either!
  • The de-nasalising went well. No water needed, you see! One dropsy only!
  • The teeth-cleaning had a bit of discomfort.
  • Then the shaving began. I had to keep emptying the sink of the water that went too cold, turning up the thermostat, and dial, to get as hot that I could from the control panel, but it wasn’t scorching enough, even then.
  • The whole shaving job was farcical in the extreme. Although having said that, there were only five dropsies! A few little nicks and one cut under the chin. One the throat, two in the neck-hole, and one on the cheek.

I got belated Health Checks done next. The Boot’s, made in China Sphygmomanometer’s SYS reading was fantastically low! Grrreat!

At least I think it is; hang on, I’ll check on Mr Google later on.

The in Hong Kong produced, Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer reading was, I think, a smidge high, but well down on yesterdays worrying high of 37.9°c – 100.22°f.

Since the side-effect-ridden AstraZeneca Covid-19 vaccination was given to me a week last Saturday, SYS has also been higher, its the lowest reading today than for ages. I think I might be getting confused here, between the SYS and the temperature? Well, fancy that!

I found an NHS site on Google, where you can put in your reading for SYS and DIA, and you get an instant show of where you stand on the chart, with a black cross! Proof that I was right to worry when the SYS went up to 180 five days ago, well, that was well in the red area!

Gotten Himmel! Look at the time! What happened, where did it go?

I’d better close down and get my pre-planned, easy, tasty (I was well wrong there!) meal prepared. I’m afraid the beautiful looking Iceland bought tin of tomatoes was terribly bland, tasteless, watery. Savourless and unappetising. These Don Holio chopped tomatoes needed a warning giving-out about them for anyone unlucky enough to buy any. The Sainsbury crispy smoked ready-cooked bacon slices were very fatty tasting as well! The last of the sourdough bread saved the meal. A flavour-rating of 4.5/10 was granted. Reluctantly to a degree! Eurgh!

However, and leaving the pots in the sink in cold water to be cleaned when I have some hot water again, in the morning, at first, I was well-pleased that I was in time to watch the channel 11, Tales of the Unexpected episodes.

I stayed awake until the first set of commercials, and Sweet Morpheus visited me, and off into the land of nod I floated.

And slept for four unbroken hours, which was so nice! Ahh!

Inchy with the Squinch. Saturday 6th February 2021 – Diary

TFZer Mary Out dining!

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Saturday 6th February 2021

Spanish: Sábado 6 de Febrero de 2021

01:00hrs: Woke, no wee-wee wanted? I was in a somewhat vague haze to start with, just went with the flow… sort of.

Up caught my balance, and off to the kitchenette, and made a brew of Glengettie tea. Then back into the main junk room with the mug, and got the computer on… but not for long, an urgent message from the innards sent in haste to the wet room and Porcelain Throne.

And what an odd session it was! I got settled, and the movement began at the slightest effort from me. It slid out painlessly, undemandingly, smoothly and pretty quickly, too! No signs of a struggle, and absolutely mess-free!

Add to this, that there was no bleeding whatsoever; and for a while, I thought I must still be laying on the uncomfortable, c1968 recliner, and dreaming that this was happening?  Amazing!

I got the updating all finished and posted the blog off. Sent the email link. Went on Facebooking catch-up. That cost me two hours, but I do love it so. But today, I have got to get a few templates done, I’ve none left to use!

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the second call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and very urgent too! In fact, an embarrassing leakage arrived before I got settled down on the Throne. (Shame and self-loathing time!) The flow was stickier but still painless! Soon over, and left me with a filthy gooey mess to clean up on the floor, Throne and myself! This put me galvanically into Depression Defcon Two-level! Cleaning up again, took me yonks.

The Subconjunctival haemorrhage eye was stingy just a bit, no real pain as such.

I read and replied to some WP comments, got CorelDraw on to upload photos, and then made a strat on graphic creating, for the template making. This is going to be a mammoth job.

First things first, though, a wee-wee, washed and made a mug of Glengettie.

The view from the kitchen window had acquired a beautiful red tinge. So I took this picture of it. Not very good, but of course it was the Canon Camera being used.

I made the tea and used the Evolve Hypromellose eye drops, I had leftover from the last time the blood vessels burst. I struggled just like before to get the stuff into the eye, and lost a lot of it down my face. I wish the hospital people would have told me how to put them in, cause I can’t get the hang of it. I’ll recheck the eye later on, but now, back to the CorelDrawing.

Stretching to use the picker upperer to retrieve a dropped letter, I had a tumble and clouted my head and right shoulder. Henceforth things are using photographs as reminders and details remain sketchy until I seemed to come back as I was making a brew. The intercom flashed, it was the Iceland delivery, that I’d forgot all about coming.

Took the bags through to the kitchen, I do recall being aghast at the green potatoes in the large bog of potatoes delivered, and struggling to get the things the freezer as it meant bending down, which was currently very painful.

Feeling unwell, tired and only really want to go back to sleep?

I think I did some CorelDrawing, but not much is there as I type this, in the morning.

I stopped everything, to go and get the ablutions tackled. But was just not up to it, the head was spinning, the shoulder and head aching, and I just sat down to rest.

Not sure how long for, must have been a few hours or so. I constantly got up, checked lights, windows, faucets etc., I couldn’t get top sleep, and the Thought Storms were rampant, getting no rest at all.

When the door chimes rang out.

I struggled with surprising difficulty to the door, it was the postman, who immediately showed concern over how I looked and inquired if I was alright, “Would you like me to call you an ambulance?”

He delivered a letter and a parcel.

I think Sister Jane rang. All confused.

Just what I needed in the envelope, a multi questionnaire from Nottingham City Homes to be filled in. I’ve already got the two NHS ones, the monthly passing and BP one, and Covid-19 to fill in, and can’t face doing them how I feel, Humph! The box was the Amazon Dettol that the tracker tells me will be here Monday.

I left everything and sat down again, and stayed there for hours, getting up only for wee-weeing occasionally. Eventually nodding off.

I woke about 23:00hrs, feeling horrifically unwell, but not poorly-sick, really. I got some nosh made. Didn’t eat much of it.

Then got the computer on to finish this post, and let the mind stew as it was going to anyway.

Inchchcok – Tuesday 22nd September 2020: Not such a bad day today… I’ll pay for this later, mind!

TFZers, in Space! ♥

Tuesday 22nd September 2020

The Republic of Tatarstan: 22 сентябрь, сишәмбе

04:00hrs: I woke, still tired after a much-broken sleep, determinedly resisting any silly thoughts of getting up. Then remembered the Falls Team and Iceland delivery had to be prepared for. As I lay there, belly almost hanging over my knees, still resistant to any physical activity, the need for a wee-wee arrived. And, it was a close call and bit of a struggle, getting myself out of the c1968 recliner, to the bucket in time!

Unfortunately, the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), caught me out this morning. Darned good job I had the PP’s on! There was probably more pre-dribble than wee-weeing, it was of the MSAOS (Mini-Sprinkling-All-Over-Short) variety. So, off to the wet room, cleaned and sanitised my body and the bucket. Then I needed to use the Porcelain Throne.

As I settled on the throne, the innards-controlled evacuation started straight away, grindingly-slowly, and painful it was too! Some liquid with this one. Streaky blood, but not a lot. Washed-up again, and changed the PP’s.

Off to the kitchenette, and got the kettle on, and took a Nikon picture of the morning view. I could see the cloud cover in the darkness.

Getting the teabag pot opened, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters caused me to drop the lid.

No problem for an organised person like wot I am, I got the short picker-upperer, leant down to pick up the lid, and clouted my mouth-chin on the corner of the counter! iI may have uttered something like, ‘Well, fancy that’, Ahem! Then as I was straightening up, I knocked the lidless pot off of the top, and my beloved Glengettie Gold teabags scattered all over the floor! I wasn’t going to risk bending down again, so I used the long plastic brush and dustpan to sweep them up, and put them in the bin. Fighting back the tears. Haha!

Then had to go for yet another wee-wee. This one was the same, an MSAOS (Mini-Sprinkling-All-Over-Short) type. Rewashed.

Back to get the Health Checks done. The photograph that I took of the Boot’s sphygmomanometer readings hid the DIA reading, so I added a seven to the picture. I pretty confident that’s what was on display, but it has been known for me to get things wrong. Hahaha!

The stick thermometer had a good reading today, 35.6°c, the highest its been for months, methinks.

Took the medications, but I nearly had another Accifauxpas opening the tablet pod. A spot of luck there actually, they shot of and all landed on the tray. Smug-Mode-Adopted!

I got some mini-potatoes in the slow-cooker, and mushrooms in the saucepan, both with a little drop of the delightfully tasty, Squid vinegar to let them marinate. I’ll turn them on later, if I remember, of course. You should try this thin sauce, Mmm! 

I got the computer booted up, and had to make a template up first. Then, I could hardly believe it, I had to go for another wee-wee?

This one was a little more forceful, but not much, and the PMAD (Pre-Micturition After-Dribbling) did not catch me out this time! I waited for a moment or two afterwards as well, just in case of any after-leaks. By, gum, I’m getting the hang of this wee-weeing in old age, now. Hahaha! But it can be bothersome when one has to record every visit. I did the updating of the sheets of NHS’s Bladder-Bowels movements and details log. It is a palava.

Got an email and text message from Iceland. They gave an expected time of arrival for the delivery and told me to see the email for changes they have had to make to the order. So I had a look, they had not got any bleach available. No problem with that, I was only building up my stocks anyway. Fair enough!

I realised I had not yet sent off the Monday blog, but didn’t want to get halfway through and the delivery to come.

I got the ablutions carried out. Not one of my easier ones. Dropsies galore, toe-stubbing, cuts shaving, cleared the floor cabinet top with one swoop of the towel! However, the ankle and feet look there usual ghostly white, but the new ulcers seem to be dying off

The delivery arrived shortly after. I got the carriers into the kitchen and sorted out the fodder. It looks like a lot in this photo, but most of it was Christmas gifts for me to hand out.

Then I had to nip back for another wee-wee, the trickles again. Tsk! No pre, or post trickling, though this time.

Made a brew, I’ll get around to drinking one soon, instead of letting them get cold repeatedly!

I had a wash and updated the NHS Bladder and Bowel movements log.

Then I phoned Sister Jane and Pete, it was a lovely chinwag, but I lost connection at least three times, and Jane rang back, bless her. Just goes to show that even when you have new mobile