Inchcock Today: Diary with Odeing

Brief Diary – with Boringly Long Ode…

One hell of a Messy Day!

Friday 13th May 2022

I reluctantly woke at 05:30hrs, and after a few minutes of determinate efforts to nod off again, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I was cruelly forced to get up!

I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But was not too keen on how the Porcelain Throne evacuation went. Trotsky Terence had a more significant say in things. Thus it was messy and a semi-splurting affair. Needing a lot of cleaning up doing after the event.

I decided to get a stand-up wash, teeth, medicationing and shave, etc. done as I was there. The shaving well, well, one… just one nick on the chin. (The teeth cleaning I forgot to do, I did it later when I remembered).

Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur Itis knees, Colin Cramps’ hands and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all medicated. I got dressed, thinking the Carer may soon be here.

Turned on the computer…

Boy, was I pissed off? YES, I was! Grrr! The thoughts of Liberty-Gobal’s Mr Fries getting so much salary and bonuses, and he can’t get an internet signal to work in Nottingham…

DOWN AGAIN

I turned everything off, leaving it for ten or fifteen minutes. Unplugged the lot. Then restarted the hub and, five minutes later computer. Gave it longer to sort itself out and into the kitchenette Humph! Stubbing my toe on the way against the server trolley wheel.

This is not going to be as short a dairy as I planned. My EQ had spoken, “Be prepared for a messy day! So I did!

From the depths of despair, I rose into flabberghastedness! Not only did the internet start, but when I slipped in the SD card – it worked the first time!!! So I got these photos from yesterday loaded to put on here. I didn’t get too excited, though, after I found that some were refused as ‘wrong format’, which they are not; I levelled off my mental state down to ‘Ah, well, I knew summat else would knacker things up!’ mode.

The first two are from the Health Checks, and the results were not too bad either. I’ve had much worse this week.

Oh, dear, now I’ve had to stop. Frustration, self-derogatory tongue lashings and self-hating had to have a few minutes with me! I realised I’d already put these on yesterday’s blog. Of course, I should have been blaming Dementia Doreen! But having to live with her, I didn’t want to make her angry with me! Hehehe! Good job that I didn’t lose more time and recognised that I’d posted them. But definitely, positively, no Smug-Mode was deserved!

When I made a brew and took this photo while doing so. The morning weather was how I felt, a smidge down, dank and not too hopeful. Hey-Ho! Hello, another trip to the Porcelain Throne was indicated…

2 So, off for the second visit of the day. Trotsky Terence was in even more control this time. The liquidifation of things was more advanced, which meant less need and time for cleaning up my delicate areas on the plus side! I used the minus side, which saved time cleaning up the splashed and liquid ricochets.

I took a photograph of the Winwood Heights, Chestnut Way, end car park. I was most concerned not to see RVM (Red-Van-Mans’) van parked on the yellow chevrons. In fact, I could not see it anywhere. He’ll be out at an AA meeting, his probation officer or visiting his mates in prison, mayhaps? Hehehe! Only joking! He’ll be working somewhere.

I pressed on with updating yesterday’s blog. Eventually, getting it done and posted. When I went to get a drink of spring water, I realised that it was beyond 09:00hrs. And no Carer had called yet. I’ll give them a little longer; usually, someone rings if they will be late?

I’m getting fed up with this – Haha! 3: I moved on to Facebooking the blog, went on the TFZer and Winwood Heights pages, read, and replied to some comments. After about an hour… back to the throne. The evacuated product was of a similar nature to the last visit. The jets of liquid were far more powerful… thus messy and needed cleaning again.

I got the bags into the kitchenette, ready to sort them out. I made a start on this blog, it was slow going, Doreen, and the brain’s concentration made things difficult for me. Then, the intercom rang forth and flashed. It was the Amazon shopper delivering my order. He even brought up the flowers first so that the bunches didn’t get crushed. Then he brought the rest up. Bless him.

I go the flower treats put safely stored from crushing, firstly. Today, the treats are for Deana, Julie and Jenny. I rang Jenny to see which one she fancied. Jenny opted for the centre bouquet.

The pink one. At least, I think the first two are pink. They’ve gone now, and I can’t remember the names, Tsk! Oh, yes, I can, one of them, the left one, Chrysanthemums! Sad, innit? My being colour blind and not a new thing that isn’t.

Around 1963 I failed a medical for a job on British Rail as a goods train guard. I found out that I suffered from protanopia – basically, I cannot identify reds from other close colours, orange, maroon etc. Then a couple of years ago, they told me I now (then) had dichromatism, having trouble identifying primary reds, greens and blues. Now I’d acquired Saccades in the right eye and glaucoma and cataracts. See what I mean? Hahaha!

Oh, heckythump, was I waffling on there! Sorry. Back to the diary…

I got the frozen things away. Vegetable burgers, iced orange lollies, potato bakes, potato bites and potato croquettes. I was pretty pleased with how I conjured around the stuff in the freezer to make room for the new stuff.

Then the fridge products, not many today, I intend to use up some of the canned foods. (We’ll see?). Tomatoes, sugar snap peas, mushroom pates, veg sausages, strawberry & grape pots to treats, that’s about it. Ah, no, well, yer see… I suppose you do… Those fresh cream French Horns? I blame one of my sweethearts on the TFZer Facebook page; I have a few. She just loves fresh cream French Horns, and when I eat one, it reminds me of Janet.

Janet and me in the photo here… in a dream I had! ♥ I’m off waffling again!

Cans of Chilli-Con-Carne, pots of jelly & custard, potatoes, fries, vegetable stock, tomato puree with herbs, a lemon, five bananas, a bottle of orange cordial, and a can of chilli soup make up the rest of the the the items purchased.

I got the fodder all stored away (The cupboards and freezer are close to cram-packed now). Then back on the blogging for an hour or two. Suddenly it dawned on me… nearly midday, and no Carer had arrived? I called Warden and Ballerina Julie and or Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell them the flowers are ready for collecting; if they can manage it. Julie answered and said she would come up to see me. I can mention the Carer missing again when she comes.

After making the call, I began to fear that I may have made an error. I was confused, and Dementia Doreen was making me fret; someone had called? I checked on the Meridian call register but could not read it with my eyes… I feared that if I say owt, and it turns out they have already been… I’m going to be regarded as a plonker of the first order? I took some faith that I was shaking a lot more than usual. The last time they failed to show, I’d gone so long without the medications; I got the shakes when they arrived. And boy, was I beginning to shake now! Yes, I was!

Back to my blogging, this is taking far too long. Interruptions of various sorts, and now Herbert had kicked off with his tap-tapping. He didn’t go on for too long. Oh, I think he just dropped something metallic, then!

Warden & ballerina Julie came in. I asked her if she would please take the flowers for Jenny, as I was expecting a delivery and call from the hospital, and she kindly agreed. I mentioned that I don’t think a Carer has been, and she said I was shaking and shuddering. Julie checked the Meridian log and said no one had been. She would mention it to them when she got back to the office. I thanked her, and off she trotted.

It then dawned on me why I’d ordered so much stuff for the freezer. Last week Richard said he would sort the dates of everything in the fridge and freezer for me. I knew I had some meat products I did not want and hoped that Richard would take them off my hands. So there will be plenty of room to get today’s stuff in it. But Richard had another call, and the lad was knackered from his shift yesterday and could sort the freezer for me. Hope he feels better and gets a good break. I’ll miss the lad, but glad he’s got a holiday to recover from his exhaustion.

I started blogging again, and someone from Meridian called me on the landline. She said they were very sorry about this morning, and a Carer is on their way to me now. I said thank you. Shame it had to happen for the seventh time since I’ve been paying them to come. Obviously, Julie had told them for me. Hey-ho, and pickle my walnuts!

Carer Valerie came into the flat, and she got my medications given. She asked me what happened with the morning’s Carer. I said I’ve no idea. Valerie said about me shaking a bit. I thought it had stopped, but apparently not. There is constantly shaking of some sort with Peripheral Neuropathy, but it was more violent this time and uncontrollable now. Thanked Val, and off she trotted. Within half an hour of taking the medicines, I think the shaking was back to normal.

I’m struggling to get the blog updated now. The concentration has been destroyed by all the complications of the day. I took the comfort of some sort in knowing things should calm down now… Did I say that?…

I got a text message, “Feet today!” reminder came in: The foot lady at the hairdressing salon told me it’s my day to have the feet done! Argh! No time to get nowt done!

4 Then it really irritated me that I needed Porcelain Throne visit number four! Just when I didn’t need it, I’m not going to be popular for keeping them waiting when I get down to the salon… mind you, I don’t expect I was before. Hehe! The evacuation was more liquified this time, but it was over quickly.

So, I fumbled and bumbled about again, and I got myself down to the ground floor salon. The looks I was greeted with said, “Oh, here it is, about time too!” They got the feet tended to, not without the odd ‘Argh’ emitting from my lips. I paid the £25, not cheap for getting one’s toenails done, but some other options are dearer. It’s terrible enough forgetting things, but then I gave my toe a stubbing against the airer as I went to get a quick wash. She gave me an appointment card, and I gave out some cans of treats. Then hastened ASAP back to the flat, fearing I may have missed the hospital’s call… Ain’t life a git some days? Well, most in my case!

Tried to get the blogging update advanced, and Valerie (the whisperer) came in the room, apparently talking to me as I typed away on the blog. Of course, I couldn’t hear her. She was returning the laundry. Treated to a little pack of grapes and strawberries. Bless her.

I put the oven on and, got some chilli on the pan, added some spirit vinegar to it and some peas. I’ve been assured that the spirit vinegar will lessen the sharpness of the chilli. After adding the peas and getting the hob going, I took a nibble. And it works! Yee-Haa!

17:15hrs The Evening Carer arrived. The morning caller was 7 hours late, and the evening one was an hour early. They must be having problems. However, the evening medications are mostly Warfarin blood thinners, Lansoprozole for Duodenal Donald, Codeine & Paracetamol pain killer, Ramipril, Peptic Antacid, and Atorvastatin Cholesterol inhibitor. The Folfiri has been stopped for six months to assess. A shame that I missed having the nurse call every day. Hahaha!

Turned everything off and got the nosh sorted out. Vegetable chilli con carnie, with cubes of potatoes done in the oven. Nice and crispy!  I soaked it up with two of the wholemeal bread rolls.

Janet and my favourite fresh cream French horns were gobbled up after the meal. There was a smidgeon of guilt lingering though afterwards. Hehehe! A Taste and Flavour Rating of 9.3/10.

Washed the pots up and spotted the sun on its way down. Despite having a shaking bout at the time (again!), I managed to get two decent, just usable pictures of it.

I took three or four, but the others didn’t come out well. Although not as vivid as some, I thought these two represented a sort of sadness. Then again, nowadays, me not being convinced, confident, in or of something, is usual, the norm! I’m not sure why.

Got a wash, and I stripped off and got down into the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, musty, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.

Then the Thought Storms launched into activity. Starting off with just how good my EQ was this morning with his forecast for the day!

This day’s events have made me even more confident in the validity of my EQ assessments and warnings. For once, I have indubitableness! I must, and will, never doubt EQ’s veridicality again.

But the self-despising, guilt, shame, failure, and bad judgments flowed through the Thought-Storms. It took ages for them to slow down enough to let me get off to sleep. Humph!

ODE TO THE DAY

My EQ warned me as soon as I woke up this Friday…
That day was going to be frustratingly messy!
There was undoubtedly no festivity but a lot of fetidity,
Leaving me with panicky mental fatiguability,
The unexpected, or forgot about, and incongruity,
Doreen Dementia, making things go recalcitrantly,
At times, I just accepted my increasing insanity…
And after so many mishaps, by own banality!

I lost hours getting the Liberty-Global net back on,
I hate things technical, electric, mobiles and silicon…
Turned all off and then back on…
Somehow got it going again, thereon…
Which cheered me up, but just a fraction,
For EQ’s warning, it was like a klaxon!

The carer was late; they’d forgotten about me,
Delayed medications (6-hours), causing psychoactivity,
And I got the shakes, and sweats, all involuntarily,
Took the belated tablets, and soon less shaky…happily!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies lesion, bloodily…
Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Toe stubbing, painful Porcelain Throne evacuating…
Hopes for an improvement turned out to be delusorily!

Every happening seems to be unfair, conspiratorily…
With the pressure of not knowing, I shook more giddily,
I got more and more uptight, responding haughtily,
I was not coping with things, well I was… but badly,
Self-pity raised its head often, and depression, sadly
Five visits to the Throne, and, Oh, many a wee-wee!
I was faffling around, like Old Mother Riley,
Ways out and solutions were well beyond me…
I knew I was in for a long day… fiddle-dee-dee!

My thoughts and concentration, or lack of I say…
Were thataway, thereaway, thisaway, anyway…
Will this stampede of failure and confusion ever fade away?
I started to fret and worry over silly things, minutiae!
Unimportant, useless, unwanted confusing clamjamfry…
Will I ever recover common sense, memory or logicality?
Then a text message reminder was sent to me…
‘Feet Today’, Toe cutting, £25 more to throw away!

I’d forgotten about the feet, got down to the salon alreet,
Being late arriving, her greeting look was like a bleat…
Painfully had my toenails cut and oiled on both feet,
Gave them each can of plonk as a peacemaking treat
And back to the flat in a hasty retreat…
Where I made chilli, that was a pleasure to eat…
But sleep was resistant; that wasn’t so sweet!

Odes Scribed To Cause A Smile and-or Laugh – I fank you!

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 – Saturday 29th January 2022

Saturday 29th January 2022

After another ‘orrible night of ever waking up, and Thought-Storm attacks, with a few nocturnal hobbles to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for painful, partly uncontrollable urinating; And having to clean and freshen up from the effects of the PMD (Pre-Micturition Dribbles), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling and splashes), all of varying nature.

One is like a torrent, belting out with no control over it and suffering from the splashback. The next, so painful and barely a trickle that somehow still managed to spray over my pyknic, wobbly, midriff more than found its way into the NWWB! Then I had to clean up, freshen up, and back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

I seemed to nod off again quickly enough each time, but sleep never lasted more than a few minutes – then it was shooting awake again, and back to the mess-making, to be cleaned up again, wee-weeing.

Around 04:10hrs, I gave up trying to prompt Sweet Morpheus. And decided to get the kettle on, take some photo’s of the dim view of the sky and end car park. I got the kettle on and required yet another wee-wee?

I took a photo with the Canon camera. It’s getting old and wrong now, just like me. (Hehe!) The spring on the SD card has gone, and Canon sometimes doesn’t recognise the card in the camera!

The shot I took of the end car park was far too dark to see much at all. So, I had to go on CorelDraw and adjust shadow, brightness, contrast and intensity to turn it into how it looks here on the right. Smug-Mode-Engaged!

This is the first time a car has not been parked on the yellow no parking zone! Well, while I’ve been taking the photos anyway.

It looks a little eerie if that’s the word I’m looking for. Nightmarish enough to be used as a ghost-themed book cover?

I couldn’t do enough work on the second shot of the view from the kitchen window. Sulk-Mode-Engaged

I made a belated brew of Glengettie, and I remembered that the Health Checks were supposed to be done again. So, I took a Cocodomal and Poo-Hardener, (Gooey last night, and messy! And tended to the Health Checks. I have the maximum SYS, Dia and Pulse figure safely put away; if they exceed them, I’ve got to call the paramedics. I put them safely away seems to have been lost to Vascular Dementia, Doris. Tsk! I started of with the checking. Took the BP and got these results, which I am confident, are well below the danger zones the nurse gave me.

All three readings were nuanced! It’s been a while since I was told I could stop doing the regular sphygmomanometerisationing. Since I started again, I’ve missed doing a few of them.

Then the temperature was taken. 34.9° c; I felt this was fine, but I checked on Dr Google anyway: “Mild +hypothermia (32–35 °C body temperature) is usually easy to treat. However, the risk of death increases as the core body temperature drops below 32 °c. Nae, bother methinks.

I made another brew and destroyed a banana. Made an Iceland order, then I took a stand-up shower at the sink.

A little early to use the noisy shower yet.

And it went jolly well… no, amazingly well! Fantastic, in fact! Here are a few things that pleased me greatly: Little Inchies fungal lesion had hardly bled at all! Shaving, one, I say ONE tiny nick only! Only two dropsies in the whole session! I had to use the Porcelain Throne while doing the ablutions… and it was smooth, bloodless, and not in the slightest bit messy or gooey! Double Smug-Mode Utilised! Only one walking into anything, the door as I left the wet room.

I had just one naughty that bothered me. A bad one; due to my hitting my ankle on the metal tray as I pulled my foot away. I stubbed my toe on the bucket that just had been cleaned and disinfected.

The state of the veins in the ankles and feet was not a pretty sight, but overall… Yippy!

I had a closer look at the vasculitis and venous thromboembolism veins on show. I think these are what the cancelled appointment at the QMC Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) was about? However, at 3.5 last time, the Warfarin level was spot on!

The Carer arrived after I’d dressed and gone on the computer. The Carer was in a rush, missed checking my swallowing the tablets, and forgot to take the waste bag to the chute for me (again). But she was obviously in a hurry, bless her. Not an easy job for the gals to do, with different people having differing, altering needs.

I now find myself in a position to give you an updated taste report on the £3 mini box of the Marks & Spencers Marmite Dinky Cheese Pinwheels I got from Ocado. Tasteless, Crap! Having eaten some of them.

Made a start on this blog creating. During which, the wee-weeing has grown less frequent – Phew!

I came across last nights sunset photographs. Both from the kitchenette window. I’m not sure why I took two that were of the same area, basically? I should imagine that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete would be to blame, and the finger must have stuck unfeelingly to the button?

I went on the WordPress Reader to see what folk have posted. Then answered some WordPress comments. Then did some TFZer Facebooking until…

Time to get the fodder sorted out – Oh yea!

Got the Cornish Pastie into the fridge; set the times. Potatoes were already in the slow cooker, and peas were on a low light in the saucepan.

A sort of fumble-thud took place in the obese stomach area, making the flab wobble! A little belching and a few stabbing pains. On my way to the wet room, the rumbling began again. I tore off the trews and PP’s and unceremoniously plonked me botty on the Throne… the action started immediately!

All seemingly over and done, I had the sensation that it wasn’t yet. So, I had a go at the easy crossword puzzle book. And very nearly got four clues answered but made do with three. (Hehehe!)

After ten minutes or so, the backup evacuation came. I was so glad I stayed in situ for its possible arrival.

Then, having washed and cleaned things, I realised I could smell something like burning… I dropped the nail brush…

Panic, flap, heartbeat racing, I rushed out to get to the kitchenette to see what I’d done. Casually shoulder-charging the door frame again on my way – now having to contend with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I lunged my way into the kitchen, nose twitching and looking for signs of smoke from the oven… I did feel a dirty great Grade A, class one fool! It was the peas that had been burnt, as for the Cornish Pastie in the oven… I’d not even turned the thing on! So, Vascular Dementia Doris had got me bleeding, bruised, bashed about and going barmy. Left me with a right load of cleaning and sorting out; Trowing away the burnt peas, scrubbing the saucepan, getting some more on the boil, wet room to clean, PPs needed changing. I got the oven on again and reset the timer.

Then, as I was getting the tray and things out, I had another thud in the stomach – no, not the bowels or bladder this time – a sudden fear that I’d left the tap running in the wet room! I grabbed Metal Mickey and went with all haste to check. I believe I might have said something like, “You stupid fart of an old ♠ 6† f=ing idi⅛¬” Something along those lines! I could have cried with joy when I first found everything okay in the room… then I was coming out, I stubbed my toe against the stand-up drier radiator!

If There Is A Lord…

I’d like to ask him/her some questions; this’ll be awkward…
If there is a God, un he finds I don’t believe, I could be buggered?
Here goes: Why did you make me earthbound…
With the minuscule willie wot I found?
Girl or Boy problem? I’ll be bound!

My young life was cruel, but I was only semi-hard…
Mam and Dad fighting, she left… I ate bread and lard!
Or on the weekend sometimes an Oxo cube or a pilchard,
Fast forward, why take Suzie from me? It made me hard!
Memories, whatever you do, I’ll not discard!

My hair fell out at 20; others at 80 have plenty, tit!
I tried to be a good man, my hearing went, have you heard?
Then you stopped my heart, a mechanical one replaced it…
Ulcer, being shot, hernias, life was haphazard…
Even my already mini-willy further withered!

I pressed on, expecting things to improve, with disregard…
Got shot again, and you sent me Stroke… Flashforward…
Made me redundant at 62; you are a wizard!
I survived that; Vascular Dementia to me, you catapulted!
Rotten teeth, poverty causes that and being demented…
The hearing gets worse, things are going downward…
Now both eyes Cataract, Saccades and they’re Glaucoma’d…

The money is getting low,
But of course, you’ll know…
I’ll have to rob an apple orchard,
Keeping tabs on your scoreboard?
Now, black depressions on me, you bestow!
The ailments make me fat when I should be like a scarecrow!

Oh, and why, with all the other crap, did you give me hammertoe?
I really have tried to be a decent fellow…
But bad luck seems to constantly flow…
To the little-willied idiot that you know…
The one with ever-increasing ailments, now it’s lumbago!
And, from the fungal lesion, blood continues to flow,
You even teased me last year with impetigo!

The funeral’s all paid for when I have to go…
Sorry I cannot muster any faith or belief, though…
I don’t believe in Christmas or Mistletoe…
I’ll be leaving behind a few friends, but many more foe,
Slowly I’m getting ready, feeling more mellow…
I’d love to leave behind me an afterglow…
Reincarnation? Oh, no, no, no!
Is it yet time for me to go?
Please let me know…

………………………………………………

Finally got the meal sorted out, served up and feasted upon with great relish and satisfaction.

It took me no time at all to entirely consume this nosh.

The black tomatoes were as perfect as one can get, most beautiful tasting! Sob! Shame it’s the last of them.

Only the Cornish Pastie was below par, but not by a lot. The plate and tray were scrapped of crumbs as well, into my mouth! Hehe! A Flavour Rating of 8.4/10.

As I was doing the washing up, I took three snaps of the dying sunset in the darkness.

The first one was taken straight ahead from the kitchenette window.

The next one was taken to the left. Amazing sky colouring again, I thought.

As I was getting ready to take a shot of the car park on Chestnut Way…

I knocked over the kitchen towel holder, which took the clock, a tub of Citric Acid and my mirror with it, on the way down to the floor! Thundergrongles!

They made a clattering noise as they met with the floor. Which I didn’t mind, cause Herbert in the flat above has been banging away all day, on and off. I hope he heard it, but I felt bad for the folks below my flat. Fantastically, no breakages from the mirror; the acid did not break open either! Wondered if my prayer in ode above had worked? Hehehe!

I got the car park photo taken. Then I got the cleaning up sorted out from the Accifauxpa.

Carer Valerie arrived, which was nice and cheered me up. A Carer who cares is a Carer you want to manage for you. There are a few. Well, many, but one bad apple can upset the apple cart and start the depressions. Hahaha!

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

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?

Inchies Frictional, Unfrivolved, Fricking Friday!

Things started pretty well for me, oh, yah!

I got the Halloween hand-outs on display…

For carers, nurses, come who may,

Anyone visiting me from today…

Then got the potatoes, boiled with balsamic vinegar,

And a spot of Worcester sauce, & a pinch of demerara sugar,

They’ll do for later if I remember the bugger,

With the chilli, and put on some more sauce, tartar?

Titivated the kitchenette, dropped a jam jar!

An excellent job that it wasn’t the caviar!

The jar didn’t break, and it missed my feet…

Things were going well, all seemed alreet,

Off to the computer with a mug of tea, took a seat,

I even nibbled some biscuits, wholewheat!

The landline rangeth, the Amazon man, a right pain!

T’was then that my good luck, nosedived again!

We couldn’t understand what each other said,

So I went down to meet and talk to him instead,

His English was better than my Afghanistani,

But he left me, in the lurch, there was no barny…

He abandoned the food with me in the lift foyer, the Git!

I had to get the parcels into the lift, and I wasn’t fit…

Back up to the 12th-floor, struggled to get the bags out,

Then had to get them into the lobby,

Then into the flats lobby,

Then into the flat,

Then the hallway…

Then the kitchen, my energy drained away!

Next, the swearing started, I have to say!

The Git had put bleach in, it leaked, had to throw my bananas away!

The baguette buggered, utter dismay!

Tomatoes crushed, and I was feeling bushed!

Honey yogourts pot fell apart; I was further crushed!

Got the salvaged food sorted,

I was pissed off; I felt like I’d been ambushed!

The cooked ham was crumbs and crushed!!!

I was feeling despondent, to say the least!

Can’t see myself enjoying tonight’s feast!

Got the fodder all sorted… What was eatable anyway!

I was determined to get the treats out today for those who have helped me out over the year. Jenny, Norah and Frank, and Obergruppenfürher Deana and Obersturmbannfuhreress Julie, the ILCs (Indeependent Living Coordinators) at the flats. I rang them both to tell them I’d be coming down later to see if it was alright, as they may have been busy. Recorded messages on both phones that told me they must be busy. So I’ll get the goodies sorted out and go to Jenny then to the office with them.

As I was going out of the door, struggling a little with the walker-trolley, the postman came into the foyer. Oh, dearie me! This sounds like it may be a con-job?

An official-looking brown envelope, a white one, and then he handed me an ‘insufficient postage bill for nearly £11 for something that has been sent to me?

He kindly offered to ask his boss if he could pay for it for me, get the ‘parcel’, and I can refund him, and he’ll bring it in the morning. I was dubious, as I don’t think ~I am expecting anything through the post? Anyway, I thanked him and took him up on his generous offer for me, with a certain feeling of doom.

The white envelope was from Meridian, three A4 pages, about my Christmas needs for carers, Logging-in, Shadowing & Spot Checks, McMillan Charity Ball, On Call Centre procedure, and a Service-User Forum Wednesday 8th December at Foxton Gardens.

I didn’t over concentrate on owt, but the dodgy sounding parcel postage cost thingy. Then thought I’d try ringing the Wardens again, let them know I was coming down to see them and ask if they could have a look at the Social Services letter for me.

Finally, I got back to the walker-trolley of goodies, of off down to Jenny’s. On the way down, I thought to myself… well, I felt sorry for myself, really. Everything suddenly going into panic mode; surely things must calm down now… Hahahahahaha! Crap!

I called at Jenny’s flat, rang the bell and knocked on the door, and returned to the lift.

Down and into the connecting corridor with Winwood Court.

Called at the Wardens Interrogation and Body Search Room and dropped off the nibbles. Dean checked the Attendance forms for me, and I signed them. At last, something was going right – Hey-Ho! Little did I know what Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops still awaited me yet!

Then realised I had not put the prescriptions list in the envelope.

Back up and down in the lift again, and down to Deana.

Gawd, it did! I thanked Deana and hobbled out of the Winwood Court foyer, the first time I’ve been in the fresh air for months now, I think… But it proved to be a hazard ridden journey to the post-box to mail the letter… Just when I stupidly thought things were getting better again…

Unbeknownst to me, the wind was howling out there, and it whipped the envelope and paperwork out of my hand, high up in the sky, swirling around and then seemed to turn back in my direction, falling down in the car park twixt the vehicles. So, if it had blown off again, I would not have seen it again… Semi-panic mode engaged. I pursued the envelope and had to search a bit to find it. Still, the relief when I saw it trapped in between the branches of a bush was welcomed, even more so when I managed to get at it in time before it flew off into the clouds again!

I limped hastily as I could to the mailbox, checked the envelope, and posted it; thank heavens for that. Although, my EQ told me it would not have mattered, because as the voice said: “You ain’t going to get no financial help, any and either way, cocker!” Which was a smidge disheartening, bearing in mind EQ has never been wrong with his forecasts… no, I tell a lie, sorry. He was once, just the one time.

I hobbled back inside and just had to tell Deana what had happened. At least she got to laugh out loud before going home for the weekend, bless her. Hehe!

I set off along the link corridor and got to the connecting door.

Boy, did I feel a fool!

I could feel the key fob in my jacket pocket, but could I find a way in to get it? No! I assumed it had gone through the lining of one of the pouches. Back through link passage and to Deana, thinking she may have some scissors for me to use, to cut through the pocket.

Within a few seconds of investigating the jacket pocket for me, Deana put on a broad grin – that I believe actually said, “What a pillock!” As she pointed out that the sleeveless coat had two pockets on either side, one behind the other!

I blushed, felt the pillock above, thanked her, and scurried away in embarrassment and fast as I could… back, yet again along the corridor.

The hobble back into Woodthorpe was masked by the deep and genuine worry about what the hell am I doing? Since retirement, nothing going right, or even things going wrong, has been a part of my life, but I am not coping so well with things nowadays.

The trip up in the lift left little recollections of anything. I should have guessed that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were about to erupt; the hassle for such a long time nearly always ends in a tumble or similar – this time was no different, I’m afraid; Well, it was actually.

The haze came over me as I began to push the trolley through to the lobby from the cage. I gave myself such a bash on the right shoulder; it knocked me sideways, I clouted my back on the other side of the lift, and I went down, almost in slow motion!

My Luck Changed!

I had no idea who it was, but a bloke came out of the end flats and got me up on my feet again. See, I am fortunate sometimes. I think he knew me cause he guided me back to the flat and helped get the trolley in for me. Not sure what we spoke about, but I think we did have a natter.

I made a brew of Glengettie Gold and sat down doing absolutely nothing, but fretting of course. Nodded off for ten minutes. Woke up in need of a wee-wee and felt so much better, then? Back-Pain-Brenda was the main pain-giver, but you can’t blame her after that little backwards tumble. Hahaha! I made another drink, and took a Cocodamal, then got on with updating this blog. I hadn’t really realised how late it was, although with all the palaver I should have expected it, the Evening Carer arrived.

It was Helen. After she’d done the medications, it was she who told me what a terrible day she’s been having. Bless her! When I related my day so far and showed Helen the photographs (I was still doing the blog updating when she arrived), She did laugh! Which was good cause it might have cheered her up a smidgeon, I hope.

I realised that I could not find the Warfarin card anywhere. Mmm? Mayhaps I dropped it when I collapsed on my rump? I went to check in the elevator cage. Nope!

Summat else to worry about now, Tsk! I got back in the front room and was going to do another search of the multi-pocketed jacket… when… I spotted it on the carpet underneath the computer cabinet.

I pressed on with this blog updating, and woe of woes, I got as far as I heard and realised it was almost midnight! I’d better get something to eat… ah, yes, the chilli and the crushed brochette, or whatever its name is, bread to me.

While doing the cooking, it was complicated for an old chap, like what I am. Some done in the crock-pot, chilli-con-carne on the saucepan on the hob, and wedges in the microwave, and as for all the cleaning up afterwards… Humph! Where was I?

Oh, yes, I took photographicalisations of the night sky.

Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woes – With Odes Series.

Intense Inchy: Wednesday 17th March 2021 Diary

INCHCOCK TODAY

Wednesday 17th March 2021

Swahili: Jumatano Tarehe 17 Machi 2021

01:20hrs: Blimus! I stirred back into imitation misery and life, and I realised I’d just had over five-hours in the nurturing arms of Sweet Morpheus! Gadzooks! Plus, I had a short nodding-off yesterday afternoon. Involuntarily, though! The need for a wee-wee developed, so I was out of the recliner and standing with my balance caught in no time?

I wandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). And worra shock, it was a wee-wee of the LPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent) type, and with no PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling.

Things seem to have altered in the wee-wee stakes suddenly? The NHS colour chart was consulted, and I was dehydrated again, but down to level four! Yippy! But the wee-weeing carried on all morning, repeatedly, and in the same mode. I got a little irritated at times with demanding needs, but the urge for a wee-wee cometh so often, and I have to goeth! Haha!

Then I got the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrive, so off I limped to the wet room. A pungent, Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation that needed a lot of cleaning up afterwards again. Of me and the Porcelain!

As you can see by the time on the travel clock om the cistern top, I’d only been up for about ten minutes, three wee-wees already.

Then, as I was asking, I needed yet another leak! Gotten Himmel!

To the front room, and I got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing, with the Boot’s BP machine. SYS 148. DIA 81 and PULSE showing as 83bpm. Which is better than many days have been the March up to now. Not too bad at all!

The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer preferred a reading of 36.9°c – 96.9°f. Perhaps a smidge high, but maybe not. I asked Mr Google and got this answer: 97°F (36.1°C) to 99°F (37.2°C).

I updated the Excel NHS record log with the details. Looking much improved on a week ago. This is the third day that I’ve got access to Excel, and there was no Updating unavailable message coming on the screen.

I wonder if Microsoft’s owner is related to Mike Fries, the man who bought Virgin Media and renamed it as Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and then proceeded to dismantle any semblance of trust, ability or compassion that was left in the business?

You certainly have to admire his skill in running the crap internet service and spending a fortune on advertising lies about it being reliable, don’t you? Fair enough, he perhaps has no idea what he’s doing. But being educated in a Wesleyan Business School and now paid a $19m salary, plus expenses and compensation totalling: Fries’ cash compensation of $8.5 million, was not the highest on the list. Fries’ stocks and options awards — valued at $79.2 million in stock and $24.2 million in options — helped lift Fries to the top salary-wise. Fries also received a $5 million sign-on bonus…

So, it’s no surprise that with the crappiest service and a cunning system installed that blocks anyone from leaving their contract – have you ever heard of anyone who left them? It’s no wonder the overpaid, under-capable git who only makes any profit for Liberty-Gold on paper! And installs hatred in his customers for the intermittent failure of connection of the internet and his contempt shown for them. However, fair does; all the other suppliers are bad as well. I did manage to leave BT when I moved into the flats here, to Virgin, who were then bought out by Liberty-Global – My bad luck! I waffled a bit there, sorry!

I got the Tuesday blog updated, between wee-wees (they were getting longer and more fierce now!) And within four hours I’d got it finished. Flibbledonkackles! Pinterested some snaps, went on the WordPress Reader, not much on again today, but what was sent, was top quality. I read and replied to some comments, then did a couple of graphics on CorelDraw. Made a brew, had a wee-wee and was just about to start on this Diary, and I realised I had not done the ablutions yet.

Gulped down the tea, and off to the wet room. A decent session to start with, the usual dropsies, of course. Only two nicks. tiny ones, shaving, and the ankle and feet were looking fine as I got ready to go in the shower. The long toenails were a bit bothersome.

I really enjoyed the showering today and spent ages in there with the cloth and loofah. I used the mint & cucumber shower gel but was not too keen on the scent. Just as well that I dropped the bottle in lost it all down the drain when it shattered! Hehe!

Dried off, and did the medicationing without any hassle. No socks put on, I’m sure I heard a groan from Sock-Glide-Glenda (Hahaha!)

Got the kettle on, and back to the computer and rebooted it.

The landline rang. It was Sister Jane, telling me she hadn’t received the Inchcock Today diary link? I was sure I’d sent it – I mean; as if a man of my calibre and dedication would forget to! Huh! Ahem! I thanked her for worrying and I checked the Emails…

What a nitwit, dumbhead, pillock, schmuck, numskull, cretin, schlemiel, flibbertigibbet, dope and senile twit,  I am! I rang Jane back to tell her I’d now sent it… I believe my red-face may have somehow seeped through the telephone cable. She was very very calm with me. Hahaha! Lovely of her to check on me though wasn’t it. ♥

Thought! I was born years too early yer know. If mankind survives a few more years, I can see people, not the commoners, mind, getting a memory transplant on the NHS… not that’s doomed innit? You’ll probably be able to get a decent second-hand one. Possibly, around the year 2065, you can get a taxi-drivers memory box, who died of Covid-1219, reconditioned and fitted for about £2.500m in a few years of paying back for Brexit? Hehe!

My mind wandered on to my epicurean-gastronomical fancies. (Food!) So much fodder to feed on at the moment. I dithered, dillied and dallied, changed my mind a good few times… Went for a wee-wee, washed and returned, and started musing over the available foods in the fridge, and there were many to pick from, all I had to do, was decide which one to have… Mmm!

Decisiveness, emphaticalness and obdurateness used to be my strong points in the old days when I was alive, you know. Not now, though! So many different permutations of the meal to make, came to mind; then left it, pretty blank as well! Humph!

Ah. I’ve just remembered, the writing pads should be arriving today, from Amazon. Of course, I only said that for effect, as if I would forget anything, Hahahahaha! Ahem! I reckon my guess is going to be a long way off! I’ll no made anything to eat until delivery has arrived, whenever that is. I tried to ignore the hunger. Oh, I am good… what for, is another question!

I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana and took the evening medications.

The landline rang out, it was a recorded message, obviously a con-job, telling me that Amazon Prime will be taking £79 from my account, and if I wanted to cancel, I had to ring this number… I rang off. Maybe another Nigerian scam? I opened the YourArea Emagazine for Sherwood, I must do something to avoid falling asleep and miss the Amazon package.

A bit of good news on the Covid-19 front! The figures for new cases in Nottingham are down by 22.5% on the previous seven day period!

.

Blow me, the next article telling of a school in the Sherwood area, where six children and thee members of staff have tested positive!.

Good heavens, what next will I come across?

Now new variants of Covid from the Pillillines have been found in Nottingham!

I made a brew of Glengettie, then I took the afternoon medications.

Checked the Amazon tracker, it was in the same place on the graph. Oh dearie me! But never mind, eh?

So tired now, done in mentally not physically… yet. Hehehe!

My ETA guesses at the arrival for the notepad order from Amazon, (16:00hrs) is fast approaching.

I got some mini-Dagwood sarnies made up, in the bowl covered it with foil, but there was no room for it to go in the fridge until the parcel arrives. I didn’t work or think that out, did I? Had a look at the tracker on Amazon. New ETA on it now.

I’m so tired and so hungry. Must stay awake! Aha, the delivery arrived at 17:50hrs.

Got the nosh sorted. 3Wed28

No idea what I’m doing now (Thurday morning) WorPredd have changed things around, and I’m f’ing lost! Sod this!

Can’t edit photos as before, edit and view modes different – Blocks appearing

Sod it!

Ho do I add… never mind, this is my last diary – Thank You WordPress! I’ll try once again, but I’m terribly confused
Too much to take in, so I leaving.

Inputted Inchy – Tuesday 16th March 2021 Dairy

♥ TFZer Lillies Famous Lakeside Teas ♥

INCHCOCK TODAY

Tuesday 16th March 2021

Spanish: Martes 16 de Marzo de 2021

023:30hrs: I woke with a dang urgent need of a wee-wee! Argh! Panic ensued as I forced my grossly overweight bellied-body from the recliner, with visions and a sensation of the surging PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), building-up, getting stronger. Caught my balance and hobbled swiftly over to unused overnight NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).

I had to give this liquid evacuation a new name. I gave it, SWROP (Slow-Weak-Resistant-Oversprinkly-Painful) title. Uncomfortable perhaps rather than painful, though. Many of these followed during the day. I’ll try not to mention them too often.

I took the medications for the evening that I’d missed taken. Humph! Then I got the Health Checks done.

The BP readings from the Sphygmomanometer showed much better results today.

Used the easy-to-use Chinese, made in Hong Kong, contactless thermometer, this result was pleasing too, at 37.2°c – 98.9°f. Not bad at all, methinks.

Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel (that’s three days now that it’s worked, they are getting better – or are they planning for a more extensive freeze or calamity later?), and updated the log for the Cardiac Unit and DVT Warfarin Clinic. I’ve not been there for two years now, but they did say they will reschedule the cancelled appointment sometime in the future.

I inputted the figures for the blood-pressure onto the NHS site and got this graph up on the right. Which works out a bit better than yesterdays’ did. But still in the High Blood Pressure status, but I’ve been on that for months now. I’ve reported it to the nurse, who tells me that she doesn’t trust my BP machine. I mentioned the failure to get through to register my after-effects of the Covid-19 vaccination and can’t get through to the Doctors surgery. “Yes, they are swamped”, was the answer.

It’s a great feeling that gives one a warm glow in the heart when you are so well cared for: Well, so others tell me!

I poddled onto the balcony with the Kodak camera and put the Canon on a charge.

Maybe today I can learn enough to use this Kodak camera properly? Or not!

The first one, an accidental one as I struggled to open the window, would have been great if it was intended!

The two of the outside were possibly a couple of my worst ever efforts.

I tried to take a photo of the car park on Chesnut Walk, through the window. As you can, it was another disaster! And here I am now, having to use the Kodak for a few hours until the Canon charges-up. I don’t suppose it will worry David Bailey? Hahaha!

I got the updating of the Monday post finished. It cost me a few hours and several, well, many, wee-wees. Pinterested, a few snaps from it, then Emailed the links off.

Between SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going down, I suffered an inordinately long time getting rattled and making so many errors!

Made a brew, had a wee-wee, passed wind, sneezed and then returned to the computer, with SSS having calmed down a lot now. So recommenced on the computing.

I stopped, having remembered (Having remembered? – I don’t say that very often! Haha!), to take the morning medications.

I went on Facebooking. Then onto the WP comments responding, and visited the WordPress Reader section. Not much seems to be coming through today? Then…

Had a wee-wee (Hardly worth the bother, a dribble!) and made a mug of tea. Then started this Diary off. The attentions of Nicodemus’s Neurotramsmitter’s failing continued to irk me a little, but I just have to get uses to it; nothing can mend nerve-ends dying. It’s not going to get any better, so I made the best of it and calmed down.

The thoughts of the two food deliveries coming together made me wonder why I’d arranged for that – Pillock! I’d better get the ablutions done, then.

No showering, of course, far too early for that and the risk of disturbing my neighbours. The session was a mixed bag of ailments, Accifauxas and goof fortune!

As I got into the wet room, Porcelain Throne’s need arrived – and what a messy affair that was! Semi-soft, messy, stinking, sticky, brown and red gunk! Yet is went away in two flushes but left a lot of mess that needed cleaning up. The TP was not up to the job alone. Dettol and hot water and a thick, strong cloth were utilised, and this took me ages! The bowl was then cleaned and sanitised, and I start to get the nasal clearing done. Put the ear drops in. Then started cleaning the teeth…

So many dropsies, I made my fingers sore with using the picker-upper so often! Haha! The shaving was problematical due to the drain not clearing the water away. I used the last of the f=drain-clearer and a lot of bleach, but it was not very successful! Glibblebonks! But still, only two tiny nicks in shaving, but one of the many dropped razors broke, and the foam spray can no longer work after the drop on the floor via the sink and my left knee! It broke after that was dropsied!

No other problems, as I didn’t put any socks on. Thus cunningly avoiding a battle with SSG Sock-Glide-Glenda.

I’m going to do any handwashing today, but I did move the thick quilted coat from above the sink to above the wall heater, as it had already-morphed into a damp-only mode.

I had a wee-wee, for what it was worth, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold. A text message came in from Iceland… wait for it… It said at the end of the wording, ‘You have no missing items! Well, that’s another first! Of course, being an experienced Iceland shopper, I knew they would have none of the split brown rolls in stock, so I ordered some bread thins and got them both! And little room in the freezer to use! Serves me, right!

I checked on Gmail to see what subs or not available were coming today on the Sainsbury order. Well, that is fortunate, no sourdough bread, but they had none last week either. And, no french cream horns, well, that’s assuaged my guilt at ordering them in the first place. Thank Lord Sainsbury!

Most, fortunately, I went to find the facemask for when the Iceland lad arrives, and the intercom flashed as I passed by it. Otherwise, I would not have known about it; either the sound from the box too low, or my ears were playing up; genuine good fortune that was!

I admitted him and was soon up at the door handing me the bags, which I put in the hallway.

The man was sociable with it. I handed the lad a choice of plonk, and off he shot, wishing me well!

I took the bags through to the kitchenette. I knew that I hadn’t ordered any kitchen towels, bleach etc., but there seemed many bags there?

All became apparent when emptied and sorted the contents of the carriers.

How, or why had I ordered two packs of the misshaped cooked ham? How or why had I got a dirty-great container of orange juice?

Why I ordered all the packets of chill chicken in different sizes?

The lean diced beef I knew was for making the chilli later on. The cucumber for making pickled cucumber arrived. I put the overordering down to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters letting down so often.

When the Sainsbury order arrives, I really hope I’ve not done it on their order as well; I’ll not have from in the fridge or freezer! Tsk!

I updated this post up to here and prayed I could hear the intercom when Mr Sainsbury arrives; hello, he’s here, and I did hear the intercom, just! The chap put the loose delivered goods in the box and carrier for me at the door, accepted a can of Vodka & lime mix, in thanks, and departed.

As I was putting the things into the kitchen to sort them out. Struggling to find room moire than ever in the fridge and freezer, the intercom rang out.

The chap returned cause he’s found a box of Cornettos he’s missed in his van for me. That was nice of him!

I’d bought a lot of fresh foods. Tomatoes x2, leeks, Limoncello (for Josie), lemon desserts, Coz’s apples (they were dry, bruised and not very good tasting). Bread thins, garden peas shelled, beef chunks, crispy smoked bacon, more cooked meats (Tsk!), milk roll loaf etc.

Somehow or other, I got the stuff put away, and then thoughts of food, eating, my leaning towards eating, nouvelle cuisine, and epicureanism abounded in my mind… What to have for my nosh! I was certainly spoilt for choice! After only a few seconds (fast for me!), I’d opted to get the beef chunks in the crockpot, add oodles of chopped leeks, and the garden peas to be added later.

I got the beef and leeks in and added some seasonings: Sea salt, black pepper, Oxo and Best Bisto gravy granules, burnt chilli powder, basil, and a drop of balsamic vinegar that had been delivered. I forgot all about the tomato passata, though, Humph!

Cleaned up and kept stirring the mixtures as I did the cleaning and sorting the bag of treats for the lovely folk on floor nine. After the water in the pot was bubbling, I turned it down and added the shelled garden peas, stirring regularly but quickly so as not to let the contents cool down. I had a taste, and in response, I added a splash of the Squid vinegar to it.

I spent a good while making up some waste bags and sorting them into the box on the walker-trolley in the hall.

While doing this task, the weariness dawned on me, and I realised that either a blank-period or mind-fatigued withdrawal from awareness was on the way. I just knew. Unfortunately!

So, I decided to get the bags to the chute and nip down with Doris, Jenny, and Frank’s bag. The hobble to the chute-room and depositing of the bags went without any hassle… well, there was a block outside the hallway door to the lobby, who doing some electrical work, and was not too pleased to have to get down from his step ladder to let me out. Hehehe!

I went down to the ninth in the elevator, dropped the carrier at Jen’s flat door, and back up to the 12th-floor. If I recall correctly, I had a marathon wait as the cages kept passing by, going up and down and not showing much interest in stopping for me? Come think of it, it may well have been muggings here, or to be precise, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, that did not sense my pressing the button, or failed to pass on the message to the brain, or Memory Mike, who had no idea what was going on at all? Hahaha! Yes, the weariness was coming… Boulderclumps!

I got back to my floor, and the poor electrician was upon his ladder again working next to the lobby door I needed. I waited patiently until he’s finished what he was doing. The lips visibly moved under his facemask. Not sure what it was he was saying, but the eyes looked rather keenly at me. Hehehe!

As I titivated the crockpot contents and had a little nibble to test things, the landline burst forth. It was Jenny, updating me on the situation with the lack of ILC’s. Holiday (vacationing) time. Well, they deserve them, having to put up with us old antediluvian fogies! Hahaha! Jenny and I had a little natter, which is always welcome. ♥

I got the nosh done, not that it needed much doing now. An expensive meal this one was. But worth it! Flavour Rating 9/10! I got the gravy mix and chilli-level right for once. And the lemon dessert went down well, too! This was one of my better efforts. Although the bank manager may disagree!

Weary-William had joined me, and the only thing I could do was to give in to him. I did manage to wash the pots before collapsing in the c1968 recliner. I seem to recall watching a ‘Parking Wars’ episode on the goggle-box; well, I started to anyway. Drifted off in minutes, but only for an hour or so, I sprang awake with Thought-Stormsrattling away in my head, so persistently.

Got up, and I took the belated evening medications. I got a drink of orange juice from the fridge and took a photo of the evening view. I looked much more vivid than it appears in this sad picture on the right here.

Back to the recliner and climbed into it. The Thought-Storms had gone, and Sweet Morpheus soon took over… Fantabulous!

Idiotic-Inchcy – Saturday 13th March 2021 Diary

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Saturday 13th March 2021

Croatian: Subota, 13 Ožujka 2021

00:00hrs: Considering the truly low and depressed mood I found myself in last night, as I stirred into semi-life, I was suddenly aware that the gloom and doom tormenting my brain was gone, disappeared, no longer there! I found this rather flummoxing.

I was baffled as to why? Nothing had changed from yesterday. Had I been dreaming, and that may have had some effect in cheering me up? Was it the bang on the head when I took my tumble that brought it on in the first place? Hello, I’d better get up; I don’t want to encourage any Thought Storms! I need a wee-wee anyway.

I freed my overweight, flobby-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner with absolute ease – until I got the weight on the knees! Argh! Cathy Cartilage on the right knee, and Arthur Itis on the left one, were both so painful and in a bad mood with me this morning. The few hurtful paces to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) indicated that this will be a less-than-easy hobbling about Saturday.

I fumbled about to get Little Inchie out and realised as I did so, the NWWB was over half full? Why does this happen so often? I must have made many trips to release this much wee-wee overnight? Yet I cannot recall getting up at all to do so? The pain I must have got from Arthur and Cathy getting out of the recliner so often, I’d have thought I would have been made me aware of what I was doing? My mind was soon cleared of this question, as the embarrassment of a somewhat significant amount of PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) escaped into the half down PPs. By bottom-lip protruded, and after finishing, I took the bucket to the wet room for emptying and sanitising and got a clean-up and got a new pair of PPs on.

It’s time and incidents like this that really bring it home to one; the body is doing its own thing, the brain’s logicality loses its way, the memory is fading fast and now avoiding most of its retention powers. The bones, joints, and ticker etc., are crumbling without mercy. Still, yer doesn’t like to complain, does yer!

I got the kettle on to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and it sounded like someone had just turned the volume up on the ‘World-Wide-Hum’; Gawd, it was loud! And the heaters were not working again? Worra, life! But I imagine that there are many people in the complex in this position, not that it cures anything, but, at least, I am still aware of my senility is en route. I worry for the future, though. Blooming cold in here again! Weekend, of course, so no one to help me out with getting the heaters also going correctly.

Had another wee-wee of the IRPT (Indefatigably-Relentless-Painful-Trickling) mode.

I took the morning medications, then got the Health Checks done. The temperature was alright this morning; it seems to be getting steadier now. Of course, I shouldn’t have said that; it was silly of me! 36.7°c – 98.06°f. It was in the green, so it should be acceptable.

The Boot’s sphygmomanometer readings were decent, methinks. SYS 150, DIA 71, and the Pulse was at 84 bpm. As I was taking this, a headache came on suddenly, sharp to the right side of the head – then a minute later, it was gone?

Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel to update the Health Checks listing figures.

Do you see that? Three, in-the-green temperatures on the trot there! Much better than earlier in the week.

I had another wee-wee, surprisingly, of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style. Then made a start on the updating of the Friday Diary. Sorted the photographs out first, then got the scripting done. The ailments of concern were just two; Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters letting me down a few tines, and of course the SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) in support, but a lot less bothersome than she was yesterday. I perseverated and got it finished but had to have four wee-wees during the three hours of writing and correcting—all of the SPL (Steady-Persistent-Lengthy). I’m getting variety today, at least. Haha!

As I put the kettle on in the cold, shiver-giving kitchen (Heater still not working), I had to nip off to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. What going on here! Constipation Konrad seems to be fighting back? Heck of a job to get things moving, and it was gooey yet solid? The toilet rolls will have to be ordered today; if I can get a slot for an A.M. delivery. A good clean up, and pleasingly, the evacuated produce was cleared with just two flushes!

I had a wash-up and had another wee-wee, this time of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode. Another washing of the dandies, and back to the computer.

I Pinterested some snaps, Emailed the link, and went on Facebooking catch-up. Spent a long time on that. Two WordPress comments had come in, which I replied to. Then I visited the WordPress Reader Section. I had another wee-wee of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode… I think we can assume that every half-hour or so throughout the day, I needed and took a wee-wee; it’ll save me a lot of typing. Tsk! Then:

I went onto the Sainsbury site to see what slots were attainable. I got a slot for Tuesday 16th @ 8>9a.m. Do you know, I made a mistake and ordered some Fresh Cream French Horns.

Brekkers sorted out. And from here on, it is hit and misses, memory-wise, very patchy. Sorry.

Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so good, perplexed, and tired out.

I had a weariness-attack, and I just turned off the computer and sat down on the recliner for many hours, watching some banal crap on the TV, but I couldn’t understand why. Doing nothing but grow fat by nibbling biscuits, crisps, ice-cream as well, I think?

The need for the Porcelain Throne then forced me to get up. I ached all over, was coughing and sneezing and felt under the weather, and confused. For some reason, I found out in the morning, I’d not cleaned up the wet room, Eurgh!

I actually made some more fodder! (I found this photo on the SD card). But can I remember making or eating it? No!

But I did find most of it in the bin later on in the night.

Along with this photo, taken through the balcony dividing glass? Not sure what, if anything, went on after that.

Mind you, Sunday morning, I did discover this snap on the camera-card. Also, that the fodder things were left loose in the sink bowel?

I’m sure that I sat down again, incapable of logical thought, and once more, spent hours just sat there, looking at the turned-off TV and fighting-off Thought-Storm-Thaddeus, but only half-heartedly. I think I was so down; I actually just accepted the self-criticisms, fears, worries etc., as a natural leveller, and a prevailing punishment, and part of my growing mental decrepitude.

The thought of having another banal Sunday to get through tomorrow was soul-destroying.

The resistant sleep did come eventually.

Impudicity-Inchy, Thursday 11th March 2021, Diary

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Thursday 11th March 2021

Norwegian: Torsdag 11 Mars 2021

23:40hrs: I stirred, after a decent five-hours of undisturbed sleep, in need of an urgent wee-wee. I disentangled my elephantine over-wobbly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, and stood up to catch my balance…

Neuropathy Pete’s adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance kicked-off, with a concise but brutal flailing performance. Luckily before I’d hobbled away from the recliner, which I sat down on again post-haste. No harm was done; I was back up and wee-weeing in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) within two minutes. The evacuation was of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style.

I got the Health Checks done, starting with the BP Sphygmomanometer, And another decent-looking set of results this morning. SYS 144, DIA 72, and the PULSE down to only 82!

The contactless thermometer was in the green, and it read 36.8°c – 98.24°f, much better than late!

I went to open Microsoft Excel to update the recordings, but once again, it was updating ‘Office’ and would not allow me access to the programme. Cracklepackers!

I had a devil of a job in updating the Wednesday Diary. So many late photos yesterday to old and sort before even starting on updating the wordage! SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing up and making progression even slower than ever. A little annoying! However, I eventually got it finished and treble checked, find endless errors to put right. Tsk! I’ve probably missed some of them; sorry about that if I have. I had a weak wee-wee.

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and then posted-off the blog. Pinterested a couple of snaps. Spent a few minutes getting this block started and went on Facebooking catch-up.

Perused the Facebook reader. Then read and replied to some WordPress comments. And got rid of another weak wee-wee. And for the first time in 30hrs+, the need for the Porcelain Throne showed up. Off to the wet room. I’ll see how things pan-out, then I can decide whether to take another of the Numark anti-diarrhorea tablets or not.

It felt strange in my not hurrying to the toilet for once. I thought things would be tighter, and they were, but still gooey. Not bleeding, and only a small evacuation, which was black in colour? As usual, my habit of dithering over choice and decision making was rampant, and I could not tell if I needed another Numark tablet or not!

On the way back to the computer, Cathy Cartilage joined in the pain giving ailment list. Gawd, she was giving it to me!

I did some WP Comments answering. And went on to the WordPress Reader section.

The howling wind seemed to be getting louder now. Still, it masks the ‘World Wide Hum’ a bit. I’ve never known it so bad since I moved here? I bet it wakes some poor soul up!

I got dirted again when I put the kettle on and did some handwashing. Some cotton long and short socks and the made in Myanmar (Burmese), too small to fit me, grey zip-up jacket. Done, wrung, and hung to dry above the kitchen sink.

Another summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I ambled along to the wet room. (Well, the toilet was in there, so it seemed a logical move) Hahaha! Again, as the first visit not long ago, the evacuation was only a small, once, but far messier than the last one was!

At least this helped me make my mind up to make a brew of Glengettie and take the morning medications with an added Numark anti-diarrhorea tablet.

I had a look at the leg ulcer. I’d gained some blotch marks around the ankle, and the old wound looked like it might be flaring up again? Mmm?

I got back and made a brew and took the medications. As I was taking them, it sounded like the ‘Hum’ and the howling winds were in competition to be the loudest. It was not helping my concentration at all.

Ablutions tackled:

As I got stripped, I could see that the ankle looked much betterer than earlier? Then realised I was using the Kodak camera; that’s why things looked brighter. I put the Kodak camera away and used the Canon for a while after this.

The session went very well, indeed! The dropsies added up to about eighteen/twenty, I reckon. But no tumbles, no dizzies or bleeding either! Shaving produced not a single nick! No falling or injuries during and dressing! The medicationing was fine! Mind you, because of this good luck, I didn’t put any socks on. (I had too later; when it got so much colder!) 

All done, I got the missed socks from yesterday, hand-washed, and hung.

I moved the earlier hand-washed grey jumper onto the serving tray and placed it near the kitchen wall heater. I must keep checking it for safety. As it is not really dry enough yet.

Then I made up some black waste bags and a recycling one and got them in the walker-guide box.

I trundled off into the foyer and out to the lift lobby and down to the chute room. The first bag  I got out of the box looked a little too large, I squashed best I could, and it went down with no trouble at all, as did the other bags. I’m was in danger of a Smug-Mode coming on here. Hehehe!

Back to the flat and checked the Amazon tracker. The pill pots weren’t even out for delivery yet; no, it looks like it might be another late stay-awake night for me.

I took a picture just as the sun disappeared and the rain stopped.

I had a nosey at the YourArea Emagazine. At least the Covid-19 new cases are well down on last week!

Stores closing in Nottingham, fast-food stores opening in Nottingham. All confusing?

Well, what a shock on the local weather forecast?

The lackadaisicalness and weariness came over me, and I became pretty useless brain-wise. I put on the Amazon tracker and just sort of sat there waiting for it to get closer and arrive. Doing very little, apart from doing some self-analysing and fault finding for about an hour or so. Then the door chimes rang out! The Amazon pill-pods were there on the floor outside the door.

I collected them and did a visual inspection. At least when the next month’s prescriptions arrive, I can sort them out using these new pods, hopefully easier than last month with all the mixed empty mishmash of pods to get confused with. Well, that’s the plan anyway.

Totally drained now, mentally for some unknown reason. I got the nosh prepared. I ate it all. (By gum, I’m eating well recently, too well?)

I foolishly thought I’d stay up to watch the two episodes of ‘Tales of the Unexpected’ on channel 11. Not a chance! I was in the land of nod before the programme even started! Waking up to the tune of the end credits playing. I considered getting up to wash the pots and dishes, but I was soon back with Sweet Morpheus.

But it was a fitful sleep this time. For the next five hours, I seemed to blink awake and drift back into slumber so often? There were no thought storms involved, though—just a vague sort of ‘Oh sod it!’ response each time I fluttered begrudgingly awake and drifted back into a tristful sleep of sorts.

Little-Inchcy, Wednesday 10th March 2021 Diary

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Someone should pay for this disaster,

Take the Blame! But no, they’ve got away with it!


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Wednesday 10th March 2021

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 10fed Mawrth 2021

23:20hrs: I woke with a bit of start, and as I began to free my overly-stomached torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, a few thought came at the same time to me. First, Cartilage Cathy’s pain was as bad as yesterday, then the lack of noise from the ‘Hum’ permeated through to me. But I could hear the machinery noises from, presumably from the rooftop plant room!