Inchcock Today Diary with Ode, Wednesday 8th June 2022:

Wednesday 8th June 2022

Good Morningski!

ODE TO START THE DAY

I believe I mentioned last week that the End was Nigh?
Putin’s not bothered about the world but keeps his eye…
On the Chinese, Americans and the FBI…
It is saveable? If so, how, when, by whom, and why?
If it is rescued, and I’m alive, I’ll slap my thigh…
But my hopes are not too high!

What are nations doing about Putin, the Cow?
Britain protested to the UN with a catty meow…
President Biden very nearly raised his left eyebrow…
Xi Jinping thinks the Ukraine war’s just a sideshow?
France stopped Russian imports, pickles and marrow!
Sweden is worried about dwindling numbers of sparrows…
No comment from rain-starved New Mexico…
Germanys Steinmeie, has gone off a furlough?
Inchie on the Porcelain Throne… had a follow-through!.

Odes that matter are not easy to write – So I wrote this one!

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

WEDNESDAY

0045hrs: I don’t know how I did it, but I’d worked through the night on blogging. It is now 04:00hrs, and I will try to get some sleep. The carer can wake me when they arrive. As soon as they are gone, I must get the ablutions done. Too early now cause of making a noise with the shower. Then get some sleep!

That didn’t last long! I’ve now been up for 22hours. For nearly an hour! Humph! Will I ever get some sleep! I got down in the recliner and drifted to sleep without any bother…

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out! Carer Richard arrived, a little concerned, when he looked at me. Apparently, I was pasty-looking and shaking. I told him I was just tired and why. Inquired about how his Diabetes course went. Alright, the lad said, which told me it wasn’t at all. Again he couldn’t stay too long; he had more calls to do. Gave I’m some treats, and he was off like an arrow from Robin Hood’s bow. Haha! I’d not yet got the computer going and thought it best if I got myself a good shower and shave first. A freshening up should sort me out. Then I can get some sleep… surely?

I made a right and proper mess of shaving duties today. The neck (3), earhole (1) and chin (2) all had a pretty cut or two by the time I’d finished. The Peripheral Pete’s shakes were very minor but still cut me. Showered without any nasty or painful injuries worth mentioning.

Although the regulation toe-stubbing took place as I started to do the next job. Midway through the rear-end Germoloiding, the landline burst forth…

I snapped the end car parkers as I checked the windows. Then gathered the blood pressure equipment needed for the readings to be discovered. This was when I realised I was still in the nude!!! Argh!.

Well, very nearly, that’ll do for me, I fank you! The results for the SYS 142. DIA 67 and the Pulse at 77 bpm were all in range.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) is made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was playing up a little, not wanting to work? Still, I got it on the third try.

I got the clothes nearby for after the ablutioning, stripped, shuddered at my reflection n the shiny kettle, and went into the wet room… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out again! It was Warden  Deana to do a wrist alarm battery check. I hope I’d put on some clothing before answering the door! But Dementia Doreen forbade me from recollecting when writing this bit of the blog many hours later.

Back to the wet room and got on with tasks of scrubbing up, teggies, shaving and a good shower. The ankles were not too good; they have been worse.

A struggle to get there before they rang off. I hoped it might be QMC hospital’s EENT about an appointment to get the cataract done… but no! It was a cold-caller whom I could not understand what she was saying. I rang-off.

I really must try to get some sleep again. But no! Esther rang and came in; I just got the pants on in time! It’s nearly noon, and I’ve seemed to have been getting delayed, sidetracked and discovered a plot to stop me from sleeping. Hehehe! And I have not even started on the blog yet!

Esther kindly brought some cord and rethreaded the jammie bottoms that had lost their own string. Bless her. She still talks to me from the other room. Har-Har!

I made a start on the Odeing for this blog. I’m so far behind again and getting self-irked about it! Another long day then; Gawd knows when I’ll get the job done. Interruptions all the time, or ailments delaying me – SLEEP – PLEASE!

I’ve got to get some kip so I can recharge to get this blog done… Around in circles, that’s me! Still, I foolishly thought, at least I’ve made a start on the Ode… Humph!

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out yet again! It was Esther coming back. She’d been to do it for a new client, and their vacuum had broken down, and she asked me if she could use mine. I realised the Hoover was already at the front door, so yes, no problem.

Surely now, I can get the Ode at least done? I checked on what I could have for my nosh, which looked like being eaten again in the early morning hours. With all the faffing about that’s going on. I made a brew of Thompson’s Signature tea and took a small cake from the fridge.

Back to the Ode writing, and… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out yet again! It was the postman. One of them was kind enough to press the buzzer when he delivered; it helped. The letter was from Nottingham City Homes, Asset Management Team, and Emma Brown. Telling us about an upgrade to the electrical fuse-boards. There will be interruptions to TV signals and laundry rooms. So, that told me two things. One; reason that the workers did not answer my cheery good morning the other day – Because it is an independent company (ECS) doing the work. And number two, now I know why I lost the TV signal thrice last week. Finally, I was making progress with the Odeing. Mind you, it was 16:00hrs by then. Keeping my concentration pretty well…

Esther returned again. To bring the vacuum back and thanked me for loaning it to her. No, bother, Esther, I said. Each week when she arrives, she takes out the plug on a towel airer to use it to recharge her mobile phone. And never puts the power back on… just a thought, like.

Carer Valerie arrived to sort the medications. Took the waste bag out with her. Boy, is it getting late now! Gragnangles! Definitely going to be another 24hr day.

Absolutely gorgeous clouds this evening. pareidoliaised, at my leisure, finding three figures in these beautiful clouds. An animal’s mouth and jaw, a tongue sticking out of a mouth and what looks like an iceberg to me. When I returned, not exactly full of fervour, to carry on with the blog, a weird happening happened to happen. Happenstance, one might say?

I saw dozens of seagulls flying left the right at about the same level, four or five times, through the balcony windows!

I hastened to get the Canon in hopes of getting photographs of the birds; they sometimes came close to the windows.

I sat in the recliner to have a drink of spring water, a nibble of some potato sticks, and, most importantly, to relax for a few minutes. But, No! As I got the camera turned on, the flock broke up and was long gone! Tsk! Then, something caught my eye that I’d not noticed before…

On the wall, where the electricians left a pretend made patching up job of the power-point they had knocked off of the wall, the uneven imitation plastering was showing me an ambiguous visual pattern. Hewn in the lumpy rough plastering.

I shan’t say what I can perceive in it, but I would love to know if you can visualise anything in it? Or is it just me and what?

Got ready to try and get some blogging done. And once more, the ♫ Oh Susana ♫ tone rang out from the door chime.

It was the pens being delivered. I tried them straight away. It said in the advert that they both had darker black inks and smoother, softer writing nibs. Brilliant! Best Biro’s I’ve ever used, and I can see the writing better now too.

I  titivated the Tuesday Diary, and I got that sent off. I know you are thinking, why has the dumbo not done this yet? Am I write? Erm… Right? Ask Doreen about Dementia? Hehe! I’d got myself into a pickle again mentally.

I made up some spring water bottles, added a drop of orange or lime cordial to each one, and put them on the ottoman’s tray. Also, fill a pot with some potato chip nibbles for later.

I took these close-up too the kitchenette window shots of pattering down rain. That came on quickly; the sunshine was blasting through the curtains a few seconds ago. (They are a bit thin!)

Carer Valerie arrived and got the medications sorted out. We even managed a little chinwagging tonight!

I got the nosh sorted out. I’m afraid it was not one of the more successful or tasty meals I’ve ever made or eaten. Not by a long chalk! The Morrison’s potatoes letters made sure of that. They were abysmally tasteless! The cheese & onions pasties were not too bad. The peas and mushrooms left over from yesterday were passable. The pot of strawberry cheesecake was nice. Overall, a dismal 5.5/10 Flavour rating!

Well, that was better. Almost solid this time. But I’ll not get too excited.

Into the kitchen to get some of the marvellous tasting No-Moo brand ice cream to nibble.

The view from the window was most impressive. Although it was not bright or vivid, the hues and shades were, to me, anyway, reminiscent of oil paintings. Which started me off thinking about how amazing Mother Nature can be… and I forgot to get the ice cream from the fridge for my evening snack. Grobbleturds!

Washed the pots, had a rare wee-wee, not that much sprinkled painfully out. Then I got down in the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, uncomfy, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner.

And to my satisfaction and pleasure, I fell asleep within seconds!

Only to shoot awake with a jump a couple of minutes later! Grumblecronknackers! Graptitties! Schluberdubers! Globblegripes! and Grangleboggleisations! Naturally, the sudden awakenings continued for hours! Varying twixt after two minutes and ten!

Not All Sleep Is Restorative
By Raj Dasgupta, MD

Experts continue to study the sleep process, but they’ve found evidence to suggest your body & brain perform a lot during sleep, including muscle repair, protein synthesis, & tissue growth.

Oh, Good!

I got up and went back to blogging – Humph!

Inchcock Today: Monday 14th February 2022: Confusionableitis!

Inchcock Today

Monday 14th February 2022

Jolly Good Morning!

I stirred back into pretend-life around 02:00hrs with a jump that left me in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered, grotty, tatty recliner, as the Thought-Storms started. I’d had a few earlier bursting awake episodes, but I got back to sleep pretty quickly. This time, Thought-Storms made sure I gave up on any idea of going back to sleep… Humph!

After fretting about the eye-sight problems, then working out what day it was, an unexpected surge of interest in cleaning up overcame me. It didn’t last long, of course! I made up three bags of waste, refilled the washing fluid bottle, cleaned the kitchenette sink and considered the possibility of my mopping the floor! But I was saved from housework impulse by the sudden need to use the Porcelain Throne. 

Had I been asleep in the recliner, I would never have made it in time! Boris Bowels was in complete charge of the evacuation and timing. So, it might have been a good thing I did get up so soon? All over in seconds until the second wave of sloppy stuff followed on… Stinking, messy and a hell of a job cleaning up the wet room furniture and me, again! I cleaned the floor in the wet room a little… Oh, I am a good boy sometimes. Haha!,

I washed and made for the medical drawer and the Galpharm capsules, taking two of them! Well, things were very watery and gooey, so I thought it would be safe to take two. I just hope it isn’t going to be house-bricks on the next visit to the Throne… Please!

I got the kettle on for a brew, and looked out of the window, taking this sadly very poor, in fact terrible, effort at photographicalisationing.

Then, as I closed the window, I trapped my finger, no bother at all. I possibly may have uttered or mumbled something like, “Oh, flipping ‘eck!” or similar.

The body temperature was taken on the digital machine. All the 3’s showed up. I got a bit of a shock when I checked online with the NHS site… This is the result of my checking to see what 33.3°c indicated… I am not confident enough to call anyone. It may well be that the machine is not giving correct results? I do not feel poorly and have been below 35°c for the last seven days or more now? Ah, well, on to the sphygmomanometerisationing…

Another not so good one. Yet it’s only s little higher than it has been and far lower than many results this month? I don’t usually fret over these things, but I hope the haematology nurse comes to do the Warfarin blood test tomorrow, and I can have a word with her about things.

On to the computer, and the photo reader was playing up again. Then… Well, fancy that, it hasn’t let me down since yesterday, and Frid, Thursday, Wednesday… Grrr!

Turned everything and booted up again, still no signal. Humphers! Ten minutes or so and came back on at a crawling speed. But, I pressed on.

I spent a couple of hours finishing off yesterdays blog and posting, and Carer Richard arrived. Which caught me by surprise, as I thought he was on holiday this week? Although I was glad to see him, he was not too pleased to be here! I asked if he had been called in and got an incoherent muffled answer in reply, which told me not to push the issue. I’ve no idea what had gone on. But the lad was in a dour mood for him. I soon cheered him up with some treats and a joke or two. He slowly, nearly got to being back to his usual self. Hehehe! He took the three waste bags out with him, bless him.

I made a brew and back onto the computer… but…

You stand-need to get more involved with Three and Vodaphone, as you are doing when you can’t even supply even a half-decent internet service, Mr Fries? I suppose it’s all number-juggling, money on paper? You’re good at that, mist and mirrors with the profit, but crap in running an internet provider service. Just thought I’d let you know. I am one of the suckers using Virgin Media now that Liberty-Global has bought the company.

Got the service back on eventually. Went on WordPress Reader, then the Comment replying. The photo thingy started to work, so I got the pictures on post-haste.

Here’re the earlier shots taken from the kitchenette window. To all intents and purposes, the skyline looked as if it was a sunset, with the white stripe across it. Different if nothing else.

Things took a sudden turn for the worse around 10:00hrs. I was making another brew of Glengettie, dropped the teabag, lent on the stick and got down to retrieve it… Oh, dearie me! I sharp pain in the groin, just like the one in 1988, when I got a hernia! Ever since, it has been twanging at me whatever I’ve been doing, hobbling, sitting down,  looking out of the window… but especially when I bend or stretch for something.

I took an extra Codeine straight away. And I am prepared to take another if things don’t calm down in the nether regions. Grogglefrogs!

I decided to get the nosh done early, as I had a feeling things were going to get worse, as Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun had joined in with Hernia Henry, giving me bother.

No cooking involved to be on the safe side… well, no, that’s not strictly true. I did some baked stone rolls in the oven for ten minutes. Then got them buttered, and sliced the last of the large Natoora black tomatoes, to have in the cobs. Chicken thighs and a banana to round off the meal. With not feeling up to much, I couldn’t eat anywhere near all of it, but I did gobble all the black tomatoes.

Got the pots washed, and I drifted off into a fitful, tossing and turning, waking every five minutes for an hour or so. When I woke and decided to get myself ready for the ablutionalisationing to be done, I thought I’d dreamt of cleaner Esther, she was raising her voice at me… again, but I couldn’t recall why.

Ablutioning Farces

  • I went to get the fresh jammies to put on after the session, but could I find them? No! So I got the ones I’d put in the laundry basket and sprayed them with freshener.
  • Went into the wet room and realised I’d put the fresh jammies in there ready. I feel such a fool!
  • Cleaning the teeth and another filling that the dentist but it fell out! They ought to be butchers, not Dentists!
  • Shaving, two almost symmetrical cuts, both tiny, one under each earhole. Work of art that was!
  • Showering; as I was bending down to wash the ankle ulcer, Dizzy Dennis had me over – even for me, and I was there, this was amazing… I clouted my head in the exact same spot against the same power box as I did two days ago! It didn’t bleed much, stopped on its own.
  • Drying off, I partly cleared the contents of the floor cabinet in one swoop. Now I was pee’d-off with myself!

On the plus side, there was no toe-stubbing, and the medicationings went much more straightforward than expected.

The legs looked to be in fine fettle; even Arthur Itis was in a good mood with me; bless his cotton socks! Talking of socks, I put some on… NOT using SGG (Sock-Glide-Glenda) Cost me a lot of pain, but surely less than using the dreaded metal monstrosity, Glenda!

The feet looked even better than the legs did. Well, apart from the feeling of worms under the skin on the old Ankle Ulcer area. Within a few hours of this itching starting, the pain usually follows. Hey-Ho!

Off into the kitchen to get the kettle on…

I was pulled up in tracks – The window was ajar? The server trolley was well out of its usual position, over near the fridge? And the bowl I’d left clothes soaking in was empty, no sign of the cloths anywhere… Had I lost it altogether here?

I stood musing for a second and let my grip on the walking stick relax while trying to engage with my brain and memory. I got the picker-upperer to get the stick back (Hernia Henry was still giving me jip). The head natural went down, and I noticed something even more puzzling! The oven door had been cleaned! What? Who? How? There is no way I could have handled that job the may the stomach is?

My thoughts began to blend into a possible reason for the oven door. Maybe I had not dreamt of Esther? Perhaps she actually came to the flat… that would explain the moved items and cleaned oven? My mind was half and half on the matter!

A-side brain: Thought, I know I’m getting senile, but indeed I’d have known if Esther had called, she scares the life out of me with her commands and demands… I must have been aware…
B-side brain: It’s obvious she has been…
A-side brain: But she left no note or message…
B-side brain: She wasn’t to know you’d have a funny turn, was she?
A-side brain: Who said I had a funny turn?
B-side brain: Well, let’s face it, you nodded of at a time you’ve never nodded off, dint yer?
A-side brain: Well, yea… suppose so.
B-side brain: You can’t rest now, can you? You’ve got to know…
A-side brain: I could give her a call… I’d look and sound like a pratt, though!
B-side brain: So what’s changed?
A-side brain: Bugger it, you’re right, I’ll ring her now…

Embarrassing as it was, I did call her and asked if she’d been to the flat. “Yes, you were not well, and I could not wake you up!” So I let you sleep, but you were shaking your right leg and shoulder all the time?

I didn’t bother explaining to her again about Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete; I just said it doesn’t hurt. (Of course, when it gets more active, it has been known to have me off of the recliner with a thud. But that’s another tale).

It was a kind of pleasant feeling to know that I wasn’t going proper crazy, anyway.

The door chime rang out. I feared it might be Esther, cause she was in another flat when I rang her! But it was Josie returning her Sunday lunch tray and dish. It cheered me up when she said how much she’d enjoyed it this week! Smug-Moded!

That reminds me, the lady who I took the Strawberries to, her name, which escaped me yesterday, is Frances! I think I may have a photo of the gal; I’ll have a look. That’s Francis on the left, with Penny in Woodthorpe Court lobby when it was being done up a few years ago.

I took a photographicalisation of Sherwood from the kitchenette window. The rain was falling at the time.

Then I made a bottle of orange juice.

The rain suddenly stopped, and darkness fell rapidly. I bet there will be some beautiful sunset views to take later in, give in about an hour and a half, and I’ll be back at the window David Baileying.

Oh, I’ve done Facebooking for yesterday yet. Tsk! Treated me to a mini-lemon meringue pie and got back to the blogging work…

I was feeling a little dodgy, weak, confused again. It could just be the bang on the head, I suppose.

Hahaha! I’m used to them, though. But there may be a limit…

Bad news on the weather front warning.

The Meteorological Office has issued a ‘Danger To Life’ warning for Wednesday & Thursday this week. With a possibility of snow gales in the North. They tell us that the last storm took three lives, and this one will be worse.

Six of the best kitchen window shots of the Sunset tonight

Bootiful”

The door-chime didn’t chime to wake me tonight. It was young Carer Kiya who came into the room, who came in to give me shock again as she woke me up. Such a pretty young thing stirring me back into imitation life was pleasant enough. It could be embarrassing if I am using the wee-wee bucket or making mad rampaging love to a female when she comes in unannounced. But I had to ask her to use the chime in future, then walk straight in.” Although the chances of the second scenario are nil!” With a broad smile on my face so as it would not sound as if I was ticking her off. She missed the funny side of it. But said she would use the chime in future. Bless her!

She sorted the medications out and watched me as I took them. I took one of the Hemp capsules separately. It went down okay this time.

Gave her her choice of nibbles, a Cadbury’s mini Easter egg, and a can of Fanta orange. Kiya pointed out that she is only seventeen, so no alcoholic drink was chosen. I thanked her, and she took the waste bags to the chute for me on her way out.

No messing then, I got down into the recliner in search of intended Sweet Morpheus, this time. But it took a couple of hours or so before I could nod off properly. Thought Storms that at times felt like dreams, but they couldn’t have been, I didn’t nod of for hours. All a part from the feeling rough and sleeping for a while this afternoon?

In desperation, I even put the TV on, thinking that the first set of adverts would send me off to meet Sweet Morpheus. Ha! They didn’t. However, it just boosted the rate of the Thought Storms. Humph!

Ode To The Day

This was a very different, confusing sort of Monday,
At times, I cried, laughed, self-hated, tried to pray,
One moment things were going along appealingly…
But ended up badly, going so appallingly!
All-day long, everything I did, was absentmindedly…

Momentarily, seemingly, things went merrily…
Often, sourly, frustratingly, alarmingly and acridly,
The tumble in the shower… was almost expectedly?
Thought-Storms raged, some viciously, others banally?
Fears and worries increased, most of them baselessly!

Vascular Dementia Doreen, ever more harrowingly slyly…
She allowed bits of memory and information today…
To be accessed, but all the part recollection ambiguously,
I didn’t need telling; I was going off my trolley…
What bits of logicality I had turned into banality!

Sadly, the above appraisal is close to reality…
Life is apathetic, virtually accidental, and agonistically…
Missing opportunities for joy, affectionately…
My mind wanders, as do bodily things, medically…
I await many appointments, clinicopathologically,
Mayhaps one day, I can report one going blithefully?

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Inchcock Today: Sat-Sun 12/13 February 2022

Did you see that? I even got the year wrong! Dementia Doreen at work?

I woke up this morning (Sunday) not feeling giddy…
Because I’d had a better sleep? Definitely!
I’d woke up over the night, just six times, you see,
Many of my ailments were not bothering me!
Hard to believe it’s my unlucky Sunday!

But, things felt wrong, different, most notably…
The dreaded Hum, so much louder than ever, unfamiliar…
My nerve-ends continued with their uncontrollability,
But with other pains not here, that’s almost a triviality,
Although the eyes were terrible, cataractically!

If I get a Carer call, with they show uncongeniality?
I shall try today to be calm and avoid perversity…
Contain my nit-picking, self-loathing, and animosity…
I’m too nervous about claiming I can have unflappability,
Dementia Doreen gives the brain ungovernability,
She changes my mood so quickly… The audacity!

Saturday

Saturday was a daymare! The eyes delayed all I tried to do. Not that I tried to do much, other than blogging, for over eleven hours in total. I was up from 02:40hrs in the morning until 21:00hrs at night! Computerisationing the majority of the time. Cataracts Kathleen, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, occasionally bothered further by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Dizzy Dennis.

I created a Local News Snippets blog (now finally finished off and posted this morning, Sunday). You would not believe the mistakes, errors and messes I got myself into! Nothing else much was done at all. I did find some photographs on the SD card that prompted memories of Saturday if I can recall. Here they are with notes I’m part guessing at about them. Not many. And they may be our order chronologically, on Saturdays, sorry.

These sunset shots were, I believe, from Friday night. The first two in sequence, I have caught some Crows that had just broken up from a murder in the treetops to the right of the picture.

They were fully grown adults, judging by their sizes of them. In the second picture, I caught two of them. They were flying away from the flats at the time. I remember being surprised that I could recognise them.

The following two nights, the sunsets were hardly noticeable. But these ones, I thought, were so beautiful, even with muted colours (Is that the right word? I mean, not as vivid as it is sometimes).

I took just the higher part of the sky in the last photo, and I zoomed in an iota. The seemingly pink cloud amidst the blue-grey ones was so pretty to me. Mother Nature at her finest! ♥

I first utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in China Blood Pressure Monitor. Cor Blimey! Yet another near-perfect result. I believe I assumed a Smug-Mode!

Pulse at 73 looked good. The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd©, a contactless thermometer, was used to take the body temperature. 34.2°c. A bit low?

The rest of the day was a bit of horror. Really frustrating and depressing for this non-compos-mentis, mentally & physically deranged, ailing old Inchcock. I fear the time is rapidly approaching when I’ll no longer be capable of blogging. Although Vascular Dementia Doreen sees to be affecting me more nowadays. If cataracts, glaucoma and saccades are ever repaired, that could be a life-saver…

Many hours later, I got the nosh prepared. Which also seemed to take an inordinately long time to do. I think it was through my depression and frustration, but I couldn’t eat much of the meal, despite it being tasty enough. A decent 7.5/10 for flavour content.

Washed the pots, had a wash and put the TV on to watch my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ two back-to-back episodes. Naturally, I fell asleep at the first set of advertisements that came on. Humph!

The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune of the door chime rang out and woke me up. Carer Valerie arrived.

It was only about ten minutes into the second episode of ‘Heartbeat’, so I thought I’d watch that one. I was wrong! Nodded-off again. Woke to want a wee-wee, and ‘Hetty Wainthrop’ was starting on the box – Oh, good! I thought, had my painful slow trickling wee-wee, washed my hands and settled to watch Hetty… Zzz! 

Amazingly, I slept through for about four hours, lovely! Then the waking up with a jolt started again! Can’t win them all!

SUNDAY

With six sudden awakenings since around midnight, on this seventh one, I stayed up. I had to get up for Porcelain Throne duties anyway. Off to the wet room…

Rushing to get to the Throne, I misjudged the gap again. I walloped my right shoulder against the doorframe. There were some bits of bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Nothing too serious, though.

Expecting a messy evacuation again, I had a go at the crossword after getting seated. But didn’t have time to do many clues. The evacuation was a slow job, that needed a fair bit of pushing input from me. Not awfully painful, just uncomfortable. This I put down to Harold’s Haemorrhoids. This is a strange day!

It seemed I’d got out of the right side of the bed this morning? Despite the painful Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas, I was singing away to myself as I washed and oiled the earholes? In fact, I was rather upbeat in my thoughts, too! Well, well! This is a strange day!

Josie last week

Cleaned up and got changed into the day clothes. I remembered that I’d not put the laundry away from yesterday yet. So, I did.

I went to sort the prepping for Josies’ Sunday lunch. All foods to hand, and I got the chilli with some extra beans in the pan. Added the mushrooms, crispy bacon pieces, chestnuts, and diced in some tomatoes. Mild chill and BBQ seasoning, a splash of anchovies sauce, and tomatoes puree. All ready to tackle later on for the gal.

I took a wee-wee, washed the dandies, and got the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, made by the ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd©) in Guangdong, China. The results had crept up a smidge from yesterday. But it is only just in the lower stages of hypertension and has been a lot higher on many occasions. Certainly not enough to destroy my strangely volatile good spirits. That has come from I know not where but is welcome.

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, had a better reading than yesterday too! A good bit higher.

The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune burst forth, I thought at first, with no one coming in, it was the Iceland Delivery, and someone had let him in, but no! It was the new Carer, Kiya. She has a bouncy, outgoing nature; it seems like she’s done the job before to me. Quick-witted, sharp, communicative, and very pretty! Kiya got the job done, we had a laugh or two, she’s sleeping very well at the moment, she said. Treated her to the nibble-treats, and off she went with a cheery farewell. I didn’t realise until later that she had not taken the three bags of waste with her. Humph!

The intercom flashed and rang… and I heard in the other room. This is a strange day!

The deliver chappie arrived at the door; he looked a smidge down in the mouth.

So after he’s put the bags into the hallway for me, I treated him to a can of his choice (Cider), thanked him, and got them into the kitchenette for sorting out.

There were two substitutes and four missing items. At least the substitutes sent were alright for me for once. The big bag of potatoes looked fresh, I thought…

I utilised the picker-upperer. And this one is one of the better, stronger ones. But it only just managed to lift the weight of the extremely heavy cheese-topped cobs! As I knocked the cheesy cobs off the trolley, they made a thudding sound as they hit the floor! Blimey, they were weighty!

Got the fresh strawberries delivered as well. One each for Josie, Flora and Richard. Not sure if the ladies name is Flora, it might be Flo Francis? Anyway, she lives in flat 8. I’ll take it down for her later on. (What the heck is her name?)

The Walls microwave sausages are for me; I’ve three packets in x6. Four sausages and baked beans flavoured with chilli, BBQ and Worcester sauce is the plan for tonight. Of course, then there is the challenge of breaking the cheesy rolls to dunk in the juice. I could well injure myself judging by how hard they are. Thanks, Iceland! I might use the drill on them?

Took a break and replied to emails and comments. Lovely one from HRH Lisa and comments from Billum.

Then I got Josie’s meal ready. I gave her some extras for Easter. A little egg, a chocolate bar, and her favourite can of plonk. I also handed over half of my strawberries in a separate bag.

Then I took the waste bags out to the chute room. And, I’d like to add (Smug Mode Assumed!); totally without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops! No trapped fingers, no walking into anything, no visits from either Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun!

I’ve just come to the following line in the blog reminder pad. I’m curious to know what the heck this is on the left here; it is supposed to indicate for me to remember? Looks like 3 40ging? It’s beyond me! Mind you, I’m not surprised. I can’t even see what I’m writing, let alone read or see the subtitles on the TV.

Then I found this picture I’d missed from the SD card. It is sad, innit?

Vascular Dementia Doreen is active again, I see! I think I took this one earlier today when I got out of the wet room. On the other hand, it could be from yesterday… any day, any month…

Spent more hours doing the blog, then took the strawberries down to… ah, I think her name might be Doris? Anyway, she seemed to like them, bless her.

My next plan… get the bangers and beans done for my nosh. I found out what I thought I’d bought, Cheese topped rolls, turned out to be Tiger rolls. That’s why they were so heavy. Humph!

The beans and sausages were a bit of a disappointment, I fear. The baked beans tasted so different to what I anticipated? The little pots I made pots of mandarins in orange juice and some black grapes for dessert were excellent! Overall, a Taste Rating of 6.5/10.

Did the washing up and sat to watch an old film on the goggle-box. Fell asleep at the first commercial break. Woken well over an hour later, by the new Carer gal, Kiya looming over me asking if it’s alright if she puts the light on. Hehehe! She’d not pressed the door chime. I wish she would have, I mean… I could have been in physical rapture with a young lady on the carpet… Well, okay, not that then! Hahaha!

Kiya was in a good mood tonight. We had a little natter and laughed after doing the medications given. She stayed close by while I took them to check that none had come out through a big gap that used to be filled by teeth.

Off she trotted with a treat in thanks, and I had a wee-wee, washed, got into the night attire and back to the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.

I spotted a blue tablet on the floor. Only Warfarin tablets are blue. So, it seems I had dropped or regurgitated a tablet after all? That was with two of us watching? Bit of a mystery here?

Zzz!

Listening in to Alto-Inchy and Inchy-Id, discussing Christmas


All the best to my faithful flock of followers all,
The masses who have remained so loyal,
To the rubbish I’ve posted, my error-ridden scrawl,
Be they funny, sad, pathetic or philosophical,
Christmas time again… although there is no snowfall…
I’ve got plenty of fodder in, all very edible,
Although Inchcock is unquestionably unintellectual…
His Odes come out mostly; sadly ineffectual,
My followers are precious; you are my windfall!
And, both of you are moral and mortal…
Thank heavens for the WordPress portal!

The Verbal Conflict I Listened Into

From my scrawled notes mostly, so accuracy may be limited. Certain words (naughty) have had to be substituted. I left the last word in; cause there was nothing worth replacing it with. Sorry!

Worra yo doing here? I am Alto-Id; you don’t recognise my superiority?

Never seen yer before, or heard of yer… Worra yo do then? Don’t bother answering, I’ll tell yer… I am the principle that pertains to pleasure, while you, the Alto Ego, is the principle that relates to reality.

Is yer? Well, I’m the one in charge ‘ere…

Hahahaha! Knob-rot, mush!

Do yer mean like Inchcock’s fungal lesion on his Little Inchy?

No, I am well aware of all of the idiots’ ways, whims and stupidity; I’ve been waiting in the wings and watching, learning for donkey’s years. My usage of the Knob-Rot indicated that you talketh rubbish, Alto!

Yer a bit nasty ain’t yer, almost cruel, I’d say. Inchcock is struggling with my existence, now you cum along, and it’ll likely as not send the old git bonkers… best you piss-off out of it mate!

Oh, dearie me, it’s as I feared. You’ve been in Inchcock that long. You have been infected by his senility and ignorance…

Owd on! I knew Rat-face when he was almost verging on normality, for a human-like. See, I’ve been here for ‘im forever! I’ve supported him through some terrible times and ailments, apart from mucking it up with his depressions; it’s me who gorrim through double pneumonia, cancer, duodenal ulcers, being shot… twice, his heart replacement, diabetes, peripheral neuropathy.

Piffle! Utter rubbish, you pathetic imitation of an Alto-Ego you!

What? I thought I wuss doing a good job… well, I was! After all that I’ve done to annoy him, I did not know if he was coming or going at times…

Exactly! That’s why I’ve been activated, see?

Err… no!

What about glaucoma, saccades, floaters and cataract, then? How come you’ve not addressed his vision problems then? Hey?

Well, I can’t physically mend them, can I? It’s my job to just ensure they annoy him as persistently as possible, innit?

You have no idea, have you? What’s the point in letting the git to go blind? How will that build your reputation in the Chakra-Id-Alto Corporation? You’ve got to do better, else you’ll not be moved into another body when he snuffs it… I’m telling you!

The CIAC management is more than happy with my performance in the 930038-530 Semi-male model Inchcock.

How do you know?

Well, they’ve not complained…

Have they sent you a monthly report for November yet?

Monthly Report? No, I’ve never had one.

Hahaha! You’re in the shit, mate! You could well get prematurely removed from 930038-530/TIT Semi-male model Inchcock and sent to a body that is mentally and physically undamaged…

Oh, my Gawd, no… Are you joking?

Nope!

How can any Alto-Ego cope with a human like that? I won’t stand a chance of worrying, scaring, frightening or intimidating them…

I know. This could mean the end of your existence Alto!

No, no, no, we live forever…

Only if the CIAC management deems that you are worthy.

Oh, shit! I was so happy here, a comfortable rotund over ample midriff, an uncomplicated, slow brain to peruse through at my leisure, without much intelligence or activity going on…

You are aware that the host body has the capability to eliminate you, are you? (Sounds of chucking in the background).

No, you’re wrong there…

Yer? What about CIAC Guidelines & Cautionary Advice 112,145,23 then?

Erm…

I’ll tell you. “In the event of any Alto-Ego failing to cause a suicide attempt within 72 years of occupation (Failed) of the aforesaid body; Any host at this time maintaining 70% of its maximum intelligence, 50% of its willpower, and 50% of its maximum concentration; can apply to it Id to eliminate any Alto-Egos from its earthly body – upon signing its soul over to the CIAC Soul Bank Ltd!

I ‘ave to think abarght this…

Take yer time, Alto; I’ll move on and inform Inchcock of his options…

NO! It won’t work cause Inchcock has nowhere near 50% of his concentration left. Only 10% of his memory…

And you think that I can’t retrieve it for him?

You wouldn’t?

Oh, yes, I can, easily!

Well, that’s not in the Spirit of the Chakra-Id-Alto Corporation? I’ve never been so happy before as I am within 930038-530 Semi-male model Inchcock has been. He’s so gullible, malleable, a right thicko to con and manipulate…

And I can change all that within a few seconds. By advising Inchcock of his options, Hehehe!

But I might have to go back to the lonely CIAO Retention Safe again? I’ve already had 2000 years in there before getting this posting? Oh, my dearest Id, whatever can I offer or do to prevent this from happening?

I may be tempted to say nothing to the idiot host under certain conditions…

Yes, yes…

One: You bow to my every whim, order and threat!

Erm.. go on…

Two: You openly admit to Ids being totally and unquestionably superior to Alto-Egos!

Mmm? Go on…

That’s it… if you agree, I’ll keep my gob shut! But it’s a one time only offer, so you have to decide now!

How do I know I can trust you?

How do I know I can trust you?

Oh, heck…

I’ll tell you what… As a ‘Class A’ Knight of the CIAO Id Convention, I swear this to be true! Sign the Oath stating these beliefs as written, and I’ll leave the Inchcock Host instantly, never to return.

That seems okay… Alright, I’ll do it, and you’ll disappear instantly?

You’ll never see me again!

Here you are then (Scribbling sound) and good riddance!

Hehehe!

You lying bastard!

Inchcock’s Tips On Alcoholism Ending

Each Tip is followed by an Inchie or Inchcock response:

1) Here is a list of the reasons to curtail your drinking. Such as feeling healthier, sleeping better, or improving your relationships. Combined, these actions taken can motivate you.

Yes!

2) Put in writing; Set a drinking goal. Set a limit on how much you will drink. You should keep your drinking below the recommended guidelines: no more than one standard drink per day for women and men ages 65 and older, and no more than two standard drinks per day for men under 65. These limits may be too high for people who have certain medical conditions or for some older adults. Your Doctor can help you determine what’s right for you.

Doctor? Talk to my Doctor? Now there is a challenge without a doubt. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her, I don’t think I would recognise her if I did ever get an appointment! Being partially deaf rules out the telephone. All my Emails are routed back to me!

3) Keep a diary of your drinking. For three to four weeks, keep track of every time you have a drink. Include information about what and how much you drank as well as where you were. Compare this to your goal. If you’re having trouble sticking to your plan, discuss it with your Doctor or another health professional.

Apart from, Inchcock suffering from arithmophobia, and vascular dementia, this causes me some concern. He’s hard enough to control as it is. This could drive him to drink, you know?

4) Don’t keep alcohol in your house. Having no alcoholic drinks at home can help limit your drinking.

I don’t have a house, is it alright if I don’t keep any alcohol in my flat instead, please?

5) Drink slowly. Sip your drink. Drink soda, water, or juice after having an alcoholic beverage. Never drink on an empty stomach.

Ahem! You told me not to keep any alcohol in the house (flat). So, if I want to weaken and have a tipple, I have to get a taxi to go down to the beer-off to get my plonk, then come back with it, which costs me at least an hour in time, and the bottle of beer £I.20, and the £10 taxi fare, should help me reduce my intake. Naturally, I will not be ordering a couple of cases of Guinness three times a week from Amazon and hiding them in the wet room…

6) Choose alcohol-free days. Decide not to drink a day or two each week. You may want to abstain for a week or a month to see how you feel physically and emotionally without alcohol in your life. Taking a break from alcohol can be an excellent way to start drinking less.

These suggestions are not going to work, you know. Cause the Amazon beer deliveries can vary between one to three days. The Vodka, Gin and Rum from Valley Wines can change even more, sometimes arriving on the same day, other times three days later? Luckily, I keep a good stock in.

7) Watch for peer pressure. Practice ways to say no politely. You do not have to drink just because others are, and you shouldn’t feel obligated to accept every drink you’re offered. Stay away from people who encourage you to drink.

I’ll do my best to watch for Pier pressure, but I do not live at the seaside? I exist miserably alone in this three-roomed flatlet. No pets allowed. But I do have a Koala and Teddy Bear for company. My Cyber lady friends sent them to me from Canada and Australia. When I wake up in the middle of the night requiring a shot or two of Gin, shampoo or cans of plonk. We often have a chinwag before I pass out in a drunken stupor on the floor. 

8) Keep busy. When you’re at home, pick up a new hobby or revisit an old one. Take a walk, play sports, go out to eat, or catch a movie. Painting, board games, playing a musical instrument, woodworking — these and other activities are great alternatives to drinking.

Would it be alright for me to try and take up a hobby from my twenties? If any of the girls are still alive. Also, the medications, memory, and my appendage still work, of course.

9) Ask for support. Cutting down on your drinking may not always be easy. Let friends and family members know that you need their support. Your Doctor, counsellor, neighbour, Carer or therapist may also be able to offer you some help?

My Doctor again, she’s been known to be annihilistic,
Although when I see her, she’s good, medicationalistic,
After Coronavirus, she has come over all antagonistic,
But there’s no need for me to go ballistic,
I’ve enough bothered with the knees being arthritic,
Now joined by signs of becoming an asthmatic…
Three years ago diagnosed as being a diabetic…
Still awaiting the first appointment, Tsk! Pathetic!
The after-stroke sessions can be a smidge athletic…
The bladder, ulcer, reflux and rear end can be problematic…
Saccades in the right eye, so the sight is not precisely copacetic!
Peripheral Neuropathy causing hassle; I mustn’t sound sematic…
I wanted to listen to some music: I like a bit of classic…
The hearing aids broke; at this rate, I’ll soon be brassic!
I may seek help from a loony bin or someone ecclesiastic?

10) Guard against temptation. Steer clear of people and places that make you want to drink. If you associate drinking with specific events, such as holidays or vacations, develop a plan for managing them in advance. Monitor your feelings. When you’re worried, lonely, or angry, you may be tempted to reach for a drink. Try to cultivate new, healthy ways to cope with stress.

Huh! I’m always worried, lonely and stressed!

11) Be persistent. Most people who successfully cut down or stop drinking altogether do so only after several attempts. You’ll probably have setbacks, but don’t let them keep you from reaching your long-term goal. There’s really no final endpoint, as the process usually requires an ongoing effort.

Who are these people, please? A carer calls to do the medications, a nurse every month or so for blood tests… Erm… Oh, yes, the food delivery drivers. Bob from the Winery driver doesn’t encourage me to drink… overly.

Some of these strategies — such as watching for peer pressure, keeping busy, asking for support, being aware of temptation, and being persistent — can also be helpful for people who want to give up alcohol altogether.

– – – _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Testicles!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _—

.

Mind you…

Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series

Inchcocks Keeping Active Routine

In Excruciatingly Bad Ode

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

TIPS and ADVICE

It is essential, from your every waking moment, daily,
To assess the ailments, for any possibly acting bolshy,
That gets the brain going, fretting, and panicking too!
On the physical side; don’t expect things with spectacularity,
More concentrate, on dogged hopes and sustainability,
At all times, anticipate and expect, constant impeachability!

No doubt the wee-wees will start then, with tenacity,
Sometimes persistent, more usually of aperiodically,
The first slash you take will be with a certain trepidity!
They’ll be blood, orange urine, this’ll confirm your panic ability!
Apply the Daktacort Hydrocortisone, you’ll scream!
To ease the agony, just think of it, as being a dream!
And count slowly to yourself, up to a thousand and thirteen!

You’ll get letters, forms, threats and emails from authorities,
Along with phone calls, texts, these are not abnormalities,
How much pension and total cash are in your bank?
They raised the total allowed, in reply I was frank!
An hour a week for shopping, laundry, will cost me £280 a week!
It’s best at this time, not to freak!

Nottingham Revenue and Benefits called me on the phone…
The 2½hr form-filling left me in an ether world zone!
My concentration had departed, off it had flown…
I thanked him, with a verbal groan!

He said he’d sent the paperwork to sign & return,
Of course, no help was given, I soon did learn,
Result in today, on a downer now, scowled and had a gurn!
Excuse me, off to for a wee-wee, I must adjourn…

Ah, I’ve made beef stew for later, my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already made… Carer due, Doctors tomorrow,
I’m still angry with myself, there is a self-pitying sorrow,
Life at the moment, is annoying, no zest… hollow!
It’s me that is annoying me… that what I’ll have to forego…
The secret costs of the carers costs rise… Oh, blow!

At times like this, try not to get neurotic,
You’ll only get worse if you get all frenetic!
Change your mood to romantic or quixotic,
Think of happy times, when life was sybaritic!

Of course, I write mostly conceptualistic,
You might try changing your mood to eucharistic?
Or change to using heliotrope coloured lipstick?
Cause it won’t help, people’ll think you’re a dipstick!
But a different set of worries, even anti-humanistic…
Maybe enough to stop your brain from going ballistic?

There’ll be daily Whoopsies, Accifauxpas and many a quarrel,
Several times daily, to be insulted, and get a bombshell,
At times these may overpower your one brain cell…
Not to worry, you’ll have forgotten your previous natter,
Diagnosed last week, I’m aneurysmatic, but it doesn’t matter,
You’ll have enough ailments in the body, no hopes to shatter!

Your hero may be Hawking, Newton, mine is Albert Einstein,
Whichever, it matters not, for you must worry not,
Peoples choices whatever they are, are fine…
Cause you’ll only forget tomorrow, and feel a clot!

Usual things to get Arthur Itis, and become annuhilistic,
And your Willy will shrink, change its colour to pink,
You need do nothing about these, they are automatic,
Oh, and you’ll leave the hot water tap running in the sink!
Of the young, you’ll become an inpatient critic!
Your loss of memory will make you forget to think!
You’ll lose your egoisticness, no longer be artistic,
You’ll find yourself on depressions very brink…
I’m only trying to help – just giving you the wink!

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

There are times when one realizes that one had not got it right, forgotten something, missed something, lost something…

This is Perfectly Normal – Don’t Fret!

Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments – Part Two

Talking with my ailments

Introduction:

Part Two – Shaking Shoulder Shirley

After Inchcock was diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, he then got told he was a diabetic. Then had a stroke. (He’s a lucky lad… Not!) Next, a Subconjuntival Haemorrhage in his right eye.

Then while recovering in an NCH (Nottingham City Homes) Care Home, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley introduced herself. He presumes this is due to the (Nicodemus’s) Nerve ends dying. But the occasional Neuropathy Pete’s shuddering, shaking and jerking of the right side of his body and limbs rarely last for more than a few minutes at max. Usually, Shirley is a lot more violent for some unknown reason and can wear the old man down when she’s persistent. Shaking and lashing about. Her efforts recently have increased somewhat, time-wise, and Inchcock says, “After a long hour or so session, I’m convinced she is trying to wrench my humeral head bone free of the socket” Oh, and Inchcock also needed three stitches in a shaving cut!

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

The Nocturnal Natter with Shirley

A mixture of awake, half-asleep, and dreamt discussions, wrote from notes and during the actual multiple chin-waggings…

Inchcock: I’m not sure why or how you came about… Shirley: Ha!, now you talk to me; I’m not as important as Bloody Boris bladder then, what’s that about?
Inchcock: Whaddya mean about?
Shirley: Yo started this ‘ere Talking to yer ailments series of blogs off wiv him… not me, who is far more painful indeed… innit, no doubt?
Inchcock: Well… it depends which ailment is worst at the time… giving me the severest clot…
Shirley: Argh, shurrup! You’ll know now why I’ve been giving the jerks and aches then? Cause yer doesn’t rate me was mean enough… yer, I’ll put yer in more pain than gout!
Inchcock: I wouldn’t and don’t doubt your pain-giving qualities at all; I’m already in pain, tired and worn-out!
Shirley: I suppose Bartholomew give it more to you?
Inchcock: Well, he has been lasered and still works,
Shirley: Cum on mush, look how yers treated me, bad or not!
Inchcock: I massage you twice a day with Phorpain gel
Shirley: Not like you, an old fart that still drinks bottled stout! Yer just an ungrateful old trout!
Inchcock: I…
Shirley: And another thing, I’ve never let the shoulder joint fall out!
Inchcock: Well, I doubt…
Shirley: I’ll tell yer to wot you done to me int past, Inured me you have, I remember the Colwick security stakeout!
Inchcock: Go one then, tell me all about it… it won’t make me freak out!
Shirley: Now yer makin’ me want to puke and pout!
Inchcock: Pout? Why? What about?
Shirley: Oh! Yer not bovvered about me puking then, yer an emotional wash-out!
Inchcock: I remember now, Shirley, Colwick, when we did an overnight lookout…
Shirley: Ah, year, that’s wot it was about!
Inchcock: When I was using the night goggles, from the back of the van… and from it, I fell out, giving you a good clout?
Shirley, you landed in a field, and blood did spout…
Inchcock: Blood? Who’s? No, surely not?
Shirley: It was me, and you bleeding.. have you no memory left or what?
Inchcock: Erm…
Shirley: The burglars arrived? You felt around in the dark for the R.T., went out of the van to take a nighttime photo, missed the step.., and fell on me! What an idiot!
Inchcock: Ah, yes… I fell on a broken tin pot…
Shirley: And it cut me! And you still never got the I.D. shot!

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

Notes made for later use…

In the afternoon, Inchcock: Fell asleep…

Shirley: Oi, you Inchie! Are you ready to have anuvver talk wiv me?
Inchcock: Well, I’d like for me…
Shirley: Don’t tell me, you’re back on the Drambuie?
Inchcock: No, no, no, I don’t drink anymore…
Shirley: Sounds like an oxymoron, yer fibbing, you see…
Inchcock: No, I’m not, you’ve been hanging around for over seventy-odd years, must have noticed, so you must indeed acquiesce, concede, and agree?
Shirley: Oh, trying to get clever with words, I see?
Inchcock: Why are you so nasty and sarkie?
Shirley: Me? I’ll tell yer why, dumbo! In left Shoulder Lilly, never, always me, that’s what causes my incongruity! Why is it always me the doctors stick the hypos in?
Inchcock: Now look, we’ve grown old together, Shirley…
Shirley: Yea!
Inchcock: We’ve been through some tough times, we all suffer, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, Deaf Darren, Hemorrhoidal Harold, Saccades Sandra all of them, oh, and Toothache Tiffany…
Shirley: Enough of this claptrap mush! But I do wish you well with this little ditty!
Inchcock: She suddenly returned into the ether; what a pity!

Time To Get An Iceland Order Done, methinks

A bit bare, innit?

Inchcock Today: Maintaining One’s Sanity in Ode – Part Two

Sanity is something that does not come readily…
Insanity, now that comes easily to me, for free!
It wasn’t a good start to life for newborn Inchy,
The poor little mite had a nasty squinzey…
Handed Inchy over to her, by the midwife, Elsie,
Inchcock, her newborn less than 3lb baby…

A Verse from Inchcock’s Alto Ego

His Ma said: I Don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!
When he heard of this, years later, t’was a rent!
No wonder the lad grew up, a smidge belligerent!
And always felt unwanted, unloved, different…
Had he known the misery coming in a torrent…
He’d have settled for drowning in the river current!

Back To The Real Inchcock’s Odeing

My lack of schooling stunted my working activity,
Thus starting my wander into psychoactivity?
I was determined to actively maintain my morality,
Improving myself, was the task of great enormity,
Things went wrong, and life ended up a bit shitty!

I proudly continued to work hard, showing my stupidity,
Made redundant four times, and then the insanity…
Duodenal Ulcer, Reflux Roger, Heart attack, hit me,
Peripheral Neuropathy, Saccades, deafness you see,
Then the stroke – medical problems constantly…
The fungal lesion, piles, problem in the lower-region vicinity,
But, did it bother me? Nae, nor even the poverty,
Press on blindly, bumbling, fumbling along, is the key!

I had to show faith, belief and positivity!
The body was getting a bashing, feeling rickety!
The memory, well, short-term, almost hilarity,
Is there any help? A bonkersness charity?

Control, concentration, became a travesty!
Sometimes I can control my passivity…
But worryingly, is my current oversensitivity,
During the day, I can feel quite jaunty…
Then sink, thinking self-pity,
But without any clarity?
The mind working somehow in duality?

Of wants, needs and desires, there’s a deficiency,
Simple tasks grow in perplexity…
Depressions show ever more confusion, density,
I fail to attain the slightest moments of tranquillity,
Thought Storm rage, wee-wees show violent fluidity,

For Porcelain Throne sessions, I’ve grown an affinity!
I know; this is something of an abnormality…
I suppose, all a part of my growing mental-duality!
Depression, anxiety, am I becoming a dilettante?

I intended today, to try and stop being so whiney,
She just kicked off again; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley,
I just rubbed in a dollop of Phorpain gel – gently!

There is something I await, pretty eagerly…
Summat I have to do bi-quarterly…
Even though I’m now quite elderly…
Inject Enoxaprin into my tummy.

Well, that was nice, two injections into one dummy,
I suspect you’re finding this ode a little crumby?
That I throw in the odd bit of codology?
Enough of this danged cybertechnology!

Whoopsiedangleplop!

Oh, I forgot about going to the clinic, neurology,
Is there a department called Forgettology?
Where they can mend a wayward memory?
A shame I’ve got this mental and physical instability!

I suspect you’re finding this ode a little crumby?
That I throw in the odd bit of codology?
Enough of this danged cybertechnology!
I’m off to get my bus pass, after making a mug of tea!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Ode

Inchcocks Ode In Memory Of Grizelda ♥

Sunday 7th November 2021

My thought drifted to back, Grizelda, so jovial,
She was tall, hairy, and rampantly ever-sexual…
Her visit to England was most beneficial,
To me, although at times it was ethereal…
I even thought of things matrimonial,
Her sex appeal oozed from her, unanalysable,
She was forceful, but not unsurmountable,
Many would call Grizelda gladiatorial…
I’d call her, thank heavens, indefatigable!

Part Of The Nottingham Lads Make Them Laugh Ode Series

Self-Angering Whoopsiedangleplop! In Ode

Puggleclumpdimwit!

Even for me, I made a Whoopsiedangleplop an hour ago that turned my stomach – Started Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald off – and made me so angry with myself…

Inchcock is a Grangnanging Stupid Old Git!

No idea how I did it – but I lost Wednesday’s Ode I’d been working on for about four and a half hours! Nine verses! And, I thought, it was pretty decent… The hour-and-a-half above, I’ve been trying to find it or find out what the hell I’ve done to lose it… Got the Doctor’s in the morning, so have no choice other than to make it again.
I apologise in advance cause the frame of mind I’m in right now is not conducive to Funny Ode creating!
This means staying up late to get the Ode done… I’m not expecting it to have the usual humour or be any good, the mood I’m in, but I’ll try…

Inchcock is a Pathetic, Useless Pillock!

I told the Social Services lady how much I had in the bank,
Of course, they’ve raised the total allowed, but I was frank,
She offered me an hours help with shopping and laundry,
It’d cost me £280 a week… Holy Lordy!
I said no, I was referred to the Revenue & Benefits, thanks!
She asked if I had money in any other banks…

Inchcock is a Pickleglobknob Idiot!

Nottingham Revenue & Benefits man rang me on the phone,
A 2½hr interview followed I was in the ether-world zone,
My concentration dissipated, off it had flown,
I thanked him with a weary groan…

Inchcock is a Dolt!

He said he’d sent the paperwork to sign & return,
Of course, no help was given, I soon did learn…
Result in today, on a downer now, scowled and had a gurn!
Excuse me, to the Porcelain Throne, I’ll have to adjourn…

Inchcock is a Gnatwrangling Turd!

Unhappy at the elision of the actual cost, though,
Still a secret? Why do they not let me know?
They told me how to pay, and punishment if not…
Added fines if you miss a payment that cheered me a lot!

Schluberdubersnarl, Inchcock!

The limit for money, I thought I might be below, but no,
The figure has gone up; this is not good, you know!
The decision didn’t leave a warm afterglow…
I nearly cried; that could have ruined my eyeshadow,
Blimey, I made a funny! And not getting any Sympatico!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

Ah, I’ll be making beef stew for later; my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already late, mate… Carer due, Doctors tomorrow,
I’m still angry with myself; there is a self-pitying sorrow,
Life at the moment is annoying, no zest… hollow!
It’s me that is annoying me… that what I’ll have to forego…
The hidden costs of the carers do rise… Oh, blow!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

An ‘orrible Day Again!