Vascular Dementia Doreen really got me yesterday. I got in a pickle trying to sort out whether or not I’d post these, or not. At the same time, I was trying to get the obstreperous Card Reader to accept newer photos… a delivery came.
While putting the food away, another delivery arrived. I was struggling to keep it together cause I was sure the Iceland delivery was for Friday, not Monday… No doubt my fault, error yet again, which doesn’t help my confidence one iota!
The kitchen was like Steptoe & Son’s was on the telly. Food was all around to be collated. Next, the INR Nurse arrived…
Not that I had any problems with the compassionate, beautiful, sweet-natured Hristina coming to deal with me. In fact, it was the only, I think, in the whole day that I was free of depression and frustrations – Gawd, I love her! (Also Jillie, Obergruppenfürheress Warden Deana, Carers Julie, Cheeky Charley, Sarah, Elena… Ah, so many!) Hristina always lifts me in spirit.
Herbert was not so bad during today, although there were a few mechanical concertos and some clangy Abbellimenti.
I’d ordered some Cathedral City cheese, red onion and focaccia baps on special offer… sorry I bothered now!
Luckily, the mushroom pate tasted great, and I filled both baps up with it! New potatoes, yellow and red halved tomatoes, and some ready roasted crispy onion bits (which went down well!). A pot of jelly & custard to round it off. I didn’t eat all of the focaccia baps, but I removed and ate all of the pates.
Took the things through to wash them up and copped for an Involuntary right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance… The tray went to the floor, which is better than my doing so.
Crap! I spent around an hour cleaning things up. I had no choice but to keep bending down cause the small onions and breadcrumbs I couldn’t see and the picker-upper was no use. Getting back up on my feet took a while in itself. Then getting the mop and bucket out of the wet room and mopped the floor. Let it dry first, took the equipment to the throne room, then went back in and cleaned the pots, tray etc., and then myself.
The evening carer arrived. Dour is how I felt cause the backache had been brought on by all the bending. Medications taken. I took an extra Codeine after the Carer left with the waste bags. I only take extra if needed, but it was that night.
Took a late evening sunrise shot. No you fool! Sunset.
Got into the £300 second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-covered tatty recliner. I reckon that I must have dropped off for a few moments, then shot awake again, at least 20 times!
Gone midnight, I put the TV on, hoping it would help me sleep deeper. It sometimes does… but no. The rest of the night’s sleep was interrupted so many times!
Worra job, fighting the SD card reader, t’was pathetic! Four days of failing, it was terribly acrostic… Three or six times a day, I tried and was feeling threnetic, The neighbour was noisy; I resisted any rhetoric, Cause I could have hit him with my mashie-niblick! But at least his noise today is only sporadic.
I know that I’m uneducated, got dementia, and am thick… But repeated failings to get the piccies on… I felt sick… Got some of them on today, and then I felt fantastic… But once out of five days? Proves I’m no clever dick… But my moods are temporary, changing, erratic… I can be depressed, then minutes later, charismatic?
Sometimes, well, rarely, I can believe I’m being realistic… But then consider myself unreliable and eccentric… Other times concentration can be enjoyed, therapeutic… But it’s only me being toying with hopes, being simplistic. Hopes for improvement in mental health and lethargic, Ever new problems with neurotransmitters and neuralgic.
I don’t expect that life’s ailments or mental logic, A problem is I’m my own worst critic, To expect to get back to normal is unrealistic… I anticipate daily pains and struggles… am I masochistic? That’s not the word I mean; I do feel a dick… I somehow cope well with pain that’s chronic?
But not with Peripheral Neuropathy, or owt anapeiratic, I manage with being deaf and arthritic, Not Doreen Dementia, who denies anything copacetic… I try not to get depressed or apathetic, I can often laugh it off, then I find it all too dramatic, I cannot cope; I find it all too frantic!
Having got rid of the depressive rot, onward…
Not sure what day this blood test was done, but I’ll hazard a guess on Saturday. To think, a couple of days earlier, the SYS was 208! Noe down to the second-lowest ever! Hehe! I’m not complaining, mind you.
And the body temperature, well, another fantastic result. Almost spot on the target figure (NHS) of 35°c!
I can remember taking this temperature, although not the day – because I dropped the thermometer, bent down to retrieve it, and clouted my head against the corner of the chair. And knocked the camera off of the table, and it would not work for a day or so, Tsk!
This I recognise quickly enough, along with the error I made doing it…
I’d made the nosh for Josie, as usual on a Sunday. Got it just right tastewise, and delivered it to her door at the agreed time of midday, feeling rather smug, with her treats for the weekend on the tray. Josie said nothing out of the usual. But I did an odd look from the gal… had I done something wrong? Mmm!
When I got back to my flat to start my dinner, it came to me… It was Saturday! Not Sunday! I felt such a berk!
I got my fodder served up. Vegetable pastie. Green and black grapes, garden peas, baked potatoes, lemon yoghourt. It was lovely. I granted the meal a taste-Rating of 8/10.
I’ve no idea why I took the picture whatsoever? I think it was on Saturday that I was having problems with the computer, other than the usual regular temper and sanity-testing card reader.
This night (Saturday maybe), the sky seemed a smidge misty with it during the sunsetting process.
I stayed up late to catch it and took these two relatively poor photographicalisations from the kitchen windows.
Saturday night, I think, possibly, mayhaps, if not, then Sunday…
I had a bad bleed from Little Inchies Fungal lesion.
Sunday, I think these results are from. And a fine set of figures they were. Sys 144, DIA 54 (A little low, maybe, but no worries about this), the pulse showed 83.
Well, blow me down, another good reading from my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Dang, close to perfect for the third day!
Ah, my beloved puffer clouds were up in the sky for me to picture them. I recall taking these pictures and suddenly needing the Porcelain Throne, so off I trotted without any delay…
I was sitting on that plastic seat in there for over 25 minutes! I also took a Codeine afterwards to ease the sore bum from the concrete torpedo; I’d just grindingly released with a Clonk of a noise when it landed in the bowl! Constipation Conrad had won the competition against his competitor Trotsky Terence by several lengths. Still, I got a few clues answered in the crossword book.
Another sort of cloudy, hazy sunset that night. Of course, I have no idea what night it was, Sunday or Monday, I imagine.
Buttered tatties, tomatoes, fish fingers, fishcakes with mushy peas inside, and battered fish fingers, Birds Eye as well, and they were crap tasting! Some grapes, and I see the milk roll slices, which was excellent cause I could mask the cardboard taste of the Birds Eys battered fish fingers a little by the bread. Eurgh! The potatoes were undercooked, but they were cooked bu a grand chap (Me!) Hahaha! Flavour: 5/10.
Tuesday’s nosh, this was more like it. There are tons of garden peas, tomatoes, tattie chunks, yellow and red tomatoes, and two sizeable battered fish portions. This fish in batter tasted a lot better than the last Birds Eye ones.
Unfortunately, the rest of the meal was a disappointment, well, crap again, actually! The bananas had gone oversweet with age, the potatoes tasteless, and the peas were bitter and sour. The tomatoes were fair enough. Flavour: 5.5/10.
Wednesday: The Iceland order arrived. I was unsure what to expect after they sent me the chinks that had gone green last week. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me and got his choice of cans in thanks. Three items were not available, and two substitutions, but at least they had better dates on them this week. I got the bags unloaded, doing the freezer and fridge items first.
Tried some of their veggieburgers and pies this time. Frozen, of course, and had a job to get them into the fridge and freezer. The substituted tomatoes were Italian ones, So maybe a disappointment. We’ll see. They usually are but compared to last week’s Algerian ones…
The substituted Richmond sausages, Carer Richard, can have in the morning.
Well, yet another fine set of results from the Health Checks! Sys 133, Dia 70, Pulse 69 (A smidge low again), Then I got the thermometer out.
Brilliant! Four days now since the 248 SYS reading, Yee-Haa! Anyone’s guess is how long these promising results will go on for.
Gong to get some nosh on now. Hopefully, I can make something worthwhile and tasty this time.
Got the chips in the oven. And noted the popularity of the Chestnut Way end car park – And no red-van-man is on sight. Unless he’s parked elsewhere than his favourite spot on the yellow no parking chevrons?
The evening Carer arrived, Valerie (Nibbles). Sorted the medications and took the bag to the chute on her way out.
Got the burnt chips based nosh finished and served up. Do you know, they tasted super-good and so tasty! At last, a decent rated meal. A burger on a cob, tomatoes, and garden peas. For afters, a mini strawberry cheesecake and a banana. Taste Rating: 9/10!
The Amazon ordered slippers arrived a little late on. Thanked the driver and offered his choice of canned refreshments.
I didn’t open the bag yet, I’ll do that in the morning, but I could tell I was going to be disappointed by the shape of the package. It felt more like a giant teddy bear inside than footwear. Squashed up and no doubt well-misshapen. Hey-Ho!
I was deprived of getting to sleep again, can’t blame the Thought-Storms this time – Thoughts of all kinds and types were absent! I was not depressed, just in a passive, what-the-heck mood. Although hours later, after failing to nod off, the darned Thought-Storms did kick off. The long done and gone mistakes I’d made flourished about in my head, seemingly in amazing chronological order? Around 02:20hrs, I put the TV on, a desperate measure… but it seemed to work… Until I sprang awake at 04:00hrs!
It’s not always good to be counterrevolutionary, Or eat too many cakes, biscuits and confectionary, Even when they are freebies, stolen or complimentary, You can get CBD from an apothecary, but not for free! Boots sell sugar-free cakes, chewing gum and toffee!
Don’t skimp on your health, even on dentistry… It will hurt and cost, don’t be disillusionary… You can get pain-killers, co-codamol from a dispensary, You must obtain a job; this is elementary… To avoid ending up broke and eleemosynary!
Avoid gangs, violence, and drugs, which seem customary… For youths who end up injured or dead, sanguinarily… Not that all young men think this is statutory… Many, well, a few, the odd one, will live crime-free… Sixty-five per cent or so will go to prison, you see!
This advice-ode is not meant to be a shockumentary, Its advice is to avoid overuse of your Rosary… Luckily for you, we have a cost-counting judiciary… So drug-taking, muggings, don’t mean putting you away, It costs too much to lock you up for more than a day!
The exception is murdering someone, to prison, you go away, You’ll not worry about the cost of living, which is so inflationary… A free Doctor inside, should you go into insanity! Takes me weeks to get an appointment for the surgery! A 20-year sentence, even if you’re a murdering mercenary!
You can get by the parole board with lies and trickery, Being free within 6 years is not so extraordinary, They’ll pay your rent, you’ll be probationary… You can kill again, perhaps a mother and baby? Get out again, sell your story for a documentary?
But let’s not be gloomy; think of the non-offenders, Who cannot afford to go out on benders… And don’t attack customers or bartenders, They may be unemployed, clerks or builders… Struggling to live and pay their bills, the poor bleeders!
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Wednesday 6th April 2020
04:00hrs: I stirred to life without any jumping or jerking. Most importantly, mental-healthwise, not a sign of the Thought-Storms! I made my way to the wet room for ablutions and an urgent feeling for a wee-wee.
I took the half-full NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with me for emptying, cleaning and disinfecting. Not an easy job, but I’m using Metal Mickey to get there. But no problems were encountered! Tipped out the contents, rinsed and washed the bucket, and put some Dettol disinfectant in it.
I started to get the nasal cleaning done and had to make a slight change of plans…
It was a close call! Despite there being no rumblings or squelching from the innards to warn me, the movement began before I’d got my bottom on the plastic! Messy! Watery, splashed all over me and the WC! Start to a sudden finish in less than 30-seconds, I reckon! The cleaning up afterwards took a lot longer. Tsk!.
Back to the wash and brush up sessioning. The teeth cleaning went okay. Then that danger zone, shaving, was started. I thought it had gone well. But when I was starting on Little Inchie and Harold’s Haemorrhoids, I caught a reflection in the shaving mirror. I wished I’d taken the camera in now. Tiny trickles of blood down from the neck and chin area, onto my chest and man-breasts. Hehehe!
I got the lesion, piles and neck sorted out rather quickly too! It took ages, and I had pieces of paper towel all over me, but they eventually stopped leaking. These tiny shaving cuts don’t seem to respond to the aftershave as much as the larger ones.
I got the day clothes on, and feeling refreshed, I hobbled back to the kitchen to get the kettle on…
Humph! I had to hasten back to the wet room to utilise the Throne again! This evacuation was, what’s the word? A sort of follow-through; far less content and almost entirely liquid. More cleaning up was required.
Trotsky Terence was now in complete charge of any rear-end passings from the innards. This called for a dose of the Galpharm to be taken with the brew of Glengettie! Which I took the next thing.
Another flipping wee-wee, short and sharp again. These came all day long, so much so that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion started bleeding later on. I don’t think I’ve wee-weed so much before. Bladder and Bowels have been upset somehow?
☑ I got the Sphygmomanometer out and took the Blood Pressure readings. Sys 144, DIA 71, which was in the High Blood Pressure red, only just. It was lower than it’s been for a few days now.
☑ The body temperature was so close to target again. It has been so good for the last 3-4 days. Why? Not complaining. I just wish I knew what I’d done right, so next time it drops, I can do it again.
I got the Tuesday blog updated and sent it off to WordPress. Emailed the link. Then, I Pinterested some photographs. Just starting the WP comments, and Carer Richard arrived. He was looking a bit better than yesterday. He gave me a few minutes of chinwagging, which I appreciated. Especially as I could see how tired the lad was.
After Richard had departed, I went back to the WP Comments. Next, onto Facebooking. Then…
Dizzy Dennis arrived, and so much so, my mind got fogged. I worked (I think), on this blog for several hours, having great difficulty getting the photos to upload again.
Concentrating was hard enough as it was, but the wee-wees increased in frequency in the afternoon, and this really got to me. I was struggling with all the breaks I had to take. Things were taking ages as I had at times to work out where I was before the weeing! Grrr!
I went through to get the oven on in readiness for the meal making, and the view was staggering. I do love those puffer clouds!
02:30hrs: I burst into wakefulness with one heck of a jump. Tired as I was, I could feel the shakes coming via the Peripheral Neuropathy in the feet and toes. There was no pain with them, just an odd, weird sensation of ultra-strong tingling. That would undoubtedly be the neurotransmitter’s nerve-ends trying to get a message to the brain but failing. There is a chance that of they succeed later, the pain will then be felt then. This had happened before many times. Hahaha! I nodded and woke repeatedly; it seemed like every ten minutes to me.
Hehe! 03:35hrs: I was reluctant to get up again… but the need for a wee-wee forced me into action. I disentangled my flobby-bellied body from the second-hand, c1966 recliner! I caught my balance and wobbled over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) and got a surprise. The evacuation was short but relatively intense. What caught me out was the amount of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). I must have been standing there for some minutes, waiting for the PMAD to stop. It must have been three times the amount of that the wee-weeing passed? With the gentle encouragement, I was giving to urge things along. Unfortunately, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion started bleeding! You didn’t need to know that did you? Sorry!
Made a Brew of Glengettie, had another PMAD ridden wee-wee, washed and got on the computer. I found this shot of last night’s incredible short sunset. I tried to load the photos, and the reader let me!
Then, I went onto the WordPress comments section. Next, the WP Reader, not many new posts on?
05:15hrs: Off to the wet room. What a magical, smooth, almost pain-free, clean evacuation that was! I’ve not had such a pleasant movement for months! Grrreat! It may sound an odd thing to say, but it was a genuine relief and pleasure!
Celebrated with another mug of tea and went back to the computer. To update, post the Friday blog, which didn’t take long with no photos to use. Grumph! But a least I got a few on of today. Phew!
Made a start on this blog. Had to stop due to Dementia Doreen and me, forgetting we’d not done the health Checks – So we did them!
Started with the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Try saying that when you’ve had a few! Hahaha! Even closer to the target figure of 35°c this time, Good!
Then the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, which was made by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China.
This one was not such a good result; the blood pressure was a smidge high again. Well, a fair bit high, really, methinks.
The Pulse at 77 bpm wasn’t bad at all.
The site said mine should be 74 to 102 beats per minute, which was a good result.
Herbert kept me aware of his presence throughout the morning. I suppose the odd thud, clunk and tap-tapping, so I don’t get bored. Hehe! His better points are his being standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, and ignoring greetings when one says, Hello, or are you keeping well?
I took a shot of red-van-man’s parking on Chestnut Way, broom the balcony. Brr! I took it through the glass, as it was pretty nippy out there now.
I made a start on this blog, and within minutes the Morrison Delivery arrived. Left the parcels in the doorway for me, and off they trotted.
As I was about to take the parcels through to the kitchenette…
The morning carer arrived, the first time she’s been to do me. She helped me move the packages into the kitchen. A professional carer. Name of Ann, or Anne. She got the medicines’ doses sorted correctly, and although she was just starting her shift (I asked), Anne gave me a couple of minutes to chinwag. ♥.
I got the barfs opened and sorted out the many items I’d purchased. Two things were unavailable, the text message said, but I didn’t know what they were. Found out later it was drink treats and cakes, so no bother over that, then.
The Lacto-free whole milk, jelly and custard pots and mini ice-cream suckers were put away in the fridge and freezer. Note that they delivered some potatoes and leek stew packs – they will be consumed this evening, I hopeth. I cut up some more potatoes to be added then to the leeks. A drop of soy, Worcester sauce and some Bisto. I’m planning to add a can of peas later on. The bottled mineral water, orange jellies, liquid soap, bleach, crispy fried onions, and Germolene were put away. As for the tomatoes, they were found to be Spanish, so I’m not too hopeful about putting them in the leek and potatoes… they are bound to taste bitter. Then I took the waste from the delivery and prepping out to the rubbish shute in the lift lobby. No injuries to report!
Got back on with updating this blog, and Sister Jane rang me. We had a good chinwag, which I enjoyed muchly. Then I got the pots and leeks with seasoning into the large pan.
Back on the computer to work on this blog. Oh, I am good! Well, pretty fair… not too bad. Crap really!
Cleaned the kitchenette surfaces, and made a mug of Co-op 99 tea.
I looked up at the wonderfully fresh-looking clouds in the sky. And had a few minutes of pareidoliaing. I saw an animal head in the first shot, I forgot what I saw in the second, Tsk! And two animals in the third photographicalisation.
I can only find the top one at the moment, though.
An hour or so later, I checked on the potato & leeks concoction. Had a taste, and thought it was coming along nicely. Still got to add the peas later, and am doubtful about putting the Spanish tomatoes in… Ah, I’ll go and have a taste of one, then I’ll know if they are worth the bother tastewise. Back in a bit…
I’m back. They’ll do. I added the peas and sliced some tomatoes into the mix.
SD Reader not working again. But Herbert was, clank, thud, tap-tap, thud.
The evening carer arrived, I’d just fallen asleep watching some rubbish on the TV. There is a film on later, the odds of my staying awake are minimal. (I hope). A good job she came, cause I’d left the leek and potatoes on the heat, cooking.
Tablets, injections, and medicines were soon sorted. No treat accepted, and off the Carer went, taking the black bag to the chute for me, bless her.
Got the nosh sorted and consumed. Took a photo of the evening sunset such as it was. Can’t get them on the system yet, I’ll try again in the morning.
It doesn’t look like it would get the taste-buds tingling, Baked potatoes, sausages… something was missing? But did I care? No, for the eyelids were drooping… I wasn’t really eating, just refuelling… The taste buds were pleased, the stomach revelling… In as tastier a meal for months, I was eating! The Thought Storms came but were untroubling! I know, it’s so rare, but tiredness was growing… The little banana for dessert, I was enjoying… A lemon & lime yoghourt… I was happily guzzling!
Peripheral Neuropathy Pete attacked me, what for? The yoghourt fell down my legs onto the floor! Shaking-Shoulder Shirley joins in, and furthermore… The TV remote flew away; where to? I’m not sure! A right mess to sort out, but I did perdure… No injuries, bruises or blood, but this, I can assure… It left me with my sanity a little insecure! Save some of the food to eat later? No, It’d lost its allure!
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The March Begins...
Another very decent night’s sleep! I reckon six hours. With only two spring-awakes! I lay pondering on what’s what for today demand-wise. After a couple of minutes, I realised two things; ① It was late, and the mooring carer was almost due. ② I needed the Porcelain Throne. So, hoping for a better evacuation than yesterday, and having taken a few capsules of Dioctyl yesterday after the concrete-like evacuation, I bravely limped off and ventured to the wet room! Haha!
Another release, similar to yesterday’s but far more manageable in comparison. Which foolishly made me think, well, that’s better, perhaps things might improve today… What an idiot! You’d have thought I’d have learned by now, wouldn’t you?
While in there, I thought I’d get the ablutionisationing done. So I did! The teeth and nasal cleaning went fine. The shaving too, only thee tiny nicks two on the chin, one on the ear lobe. I can recall saying my Alto-Ego saying something like; Let’s not get over-confident, Inchcock, no more banging into owt or tumbling over. I know you’re worried about the Carer coming but just take care!”
Not a single banging into anything, only a handful of dropsies; I got the showering done post-haste without rushing and got the same feeling as when I woke up… a foolish feeling of semi-contentment and a smidgeon of a Smug-Mode. No toe-stubbing, no walking into the door frame on leaving the wet room; a full-on Smug-Mode was adopted! I hobbled into the kitchenette to make a brew. As cheery as is possible for me, and no particular reason, other than this threatening semi-confidence in its going to being a betterer day today? Worryingly!
The only ailments hassle were Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Cartilage Cathy. I got the kettle on as ♫ Oh Susan ♫ rang out, and Carer Richard came in. He got the medications, and alert wristlet alarm check done, then handed me a camera he says he does not use. That was kind. I gave him the new far too big to fit anywhere air fryer I’d foolishly bought. Exchange is no robbery, as they used to say. Hehehe!
Being his last call, we had an excellent nattering session and laugh or two, the moan, and I enjoyed it so much. Richard made for his bed, and I don’t blame him! Haha!
I made the brew and nearly moped the kitchen floor, but I left it for her to do as Esther might call. I got on the computer, but it was not good. The Peripheral Neuropathy nerve ends always start, contacting and losing it when I’m typing! It never fails. Grrr! So progress was snail-paced, made worse by all the errors and correctionalisationing I had to cope with.
I took a break and had a close look at the Fuji camera Carer Richard had kindly donated. Put some batteries in that didn’t work. Then looked on the web and found out how, or which way around they have to go, and wallah! It worked! I didn’t use it then, as updating Monday’s blog was so far behind. Got back to blogging…
The intercom rang, and it was the Iceland delivery that I’d forgotten all about coming. I know… Dementia Doreen strikes again! Because I could use neither camera, cause the computer card reader did not recognise them, I used an old one from file here; I’m getting fed up with this palaver every day. Got the fodder stored away and found an exciting occurrence, even for Iceland! ① The strawberries I ordered were on the last day before consuming; they sent them for free. ② Again, they substituted ordinary sausages for the microwave ones I’d ordered (Sent back). ③ Substituted water for another brand, same price. ④ No fresh peas. ⑤ No microwave sausages. Choices are getting sparse in all of the stores now, for supplies. Oh, dearie me!
He was working well all day today; he was noisy so often. But none of the bouts lasted for too long, so no complaints.
I eventually got yesterday’s blog completed and sent off. Went on Facebook, then WordPress Reader. Got around to doing Email checks and then WordPress comments. Had some long ones today, which put me further behind. Haha! But they are welcome; I love getting messages and comments.
Then, the arrival of cleaning operative dominatoress Esther. She was collecting the laundry. She told me to take off my shirt, and she’d take that. I asked if she could mop the kitchen floor for me later – But No! She doesn’t like my mop and bucket. So I gave her some money, as she said she’d get one she likes. Obviously, every time she comes, she’s talking and walking into other rooms without stopping… I reckon I heard about 40% of what she said. Hehehe! Someone else who one can’t do anything right, but can’t help still love ’em!
She took the laundry with someone else’s, and I treated myself to a banana. Do you see the size of it? Miniature, I think, Hahaha! But they just sit me down to the ground.
Tried to get on with the blog again… Oh, no, such luck! The Amazon delivery arrived. In it were three things; ① Treats for the nurses, Carers and (kind only) delivery people, in the form of some cans of Southern Comfort Whiskey & cola. ② A tray of 12 cans of Beef Chilli (for Josie’s Sunday meals), and ③ 24 cans of garden peas, I got these cause they are hard to find nowadays after the Covid-virus estimated staff levels. Iceland has stopped selling them altogether. Sainsbury’s have put theirs up from 30p to 50p! Ocado’s only brand they sell now is £1.49 a can!!! So, I got these in before they rise anymore in price! Argh! It’s getting worse. The rents have just been increased, and electricity is going up by 15% this month. Get it while you can, I say!
I took the rubbish from the delivery to the waste chute. Trapped a finger end in the cast iron lid, pulled my hand away sheepishly, and hit the knuckle on the edge of the metal lid.
I thought the day had started so well, too!
I was reet wee’d-off when I hobbled back to the flat. I decided to try on the Fuji camera again and got it going!!! These are the photos I took with the Carer Richard gifted Fuji.
I’ve got to work out how to get different sized pictures, but not now; too much left to do on the blog and running out of time, energy and willpower.
I took a shot of HRH Lisa’s presents, Marie’s Koala Katie, and Patties Teddy Bear, who have all become members of my family now and are chatted to and given a cuddle in their turn, every day in passing. 💜
I poddled off into the kitchen, taking this photographicalisation en route. It was not as dark as this came out, but the flash worked on it. I saw the potatoes on the counter near the microwave and realised I’d not had anything to eat today… Ooh! I tell a fib, I had the baby banana. Haha!
I opened the window, and I took this effort of the teatime view of the darkening but still pretty looking skies over Sherwood.
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune brought forth my Caring Angel, Julia! 💖
I instantly became another person; depression and worries faded, to be replaced with joy and admiration. Julia is such a caring Carer and is so helpful to me. We managed a little gossiping laughter, and she, as usual, brought my spirits up from the depths I was in before she arrived. Luckily, I was just replying to an Email from sweet Jenny, in which she mentioned the strawberries, which reminded me of the packet I had in the fridge for the evening Carer. I think I may have looked and appeared to be with it, by remembering… but words kept leaving me as I was talking, which soon had me back as a recognisable dodo! Hehehe!
Julia departed, and the dark depression of frustration soon returned. Also, the damned computer was not recognising the SD card again. Grrr! Damnangles and Groggleturds!
I pressed on with the blogging, making so many mistakes you wouldn’t believe it. Suddenly, as I got up for a wee-wee…
It was gone 23:00hrs! And I’d still had nowt to eat! I decided to pack in on the computer. So I did! I’ll have to do my best to catch up tomorrow.
Oh, no, I’ll read and reply to any comments on WordPress first. Three or four had come in.
Phew! Finally… at the end of the day (literally midnight), very most belatedly, at long last, I managed to get some nosh prepared! Despite feeling spot weary, I had the impulse for fish! So made a plate of battered fish fingers, fishcakes with peas in batter, potato waffles, yellow, red and black tomatoes for lunch, or dinner, no, supper. Maybe even breakfast? Hehehe! Another mini-baby banana, a pot of lemon & lime mousse, and two tiny tea cakes. No guilt filtered through at all! But it did after. Tsk! Taste Rating; 8.6/10, it went down a treat!
As I prepped for kipping sent took off the wristwatch, it seemed that it left a splat of bruising around the wrist? Not that it hurt at all, but once I detached the reluctant-to-leave my skin, watch, it started itching. Not that it woke me or anything. I was out of it for four hours solid! Again, praise to the Hemp capsules!
The London Philharmonic Orchestra could have come in the flat and performed Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture around the Beige, second-hand, £300, c1968, uncomfortable, recliner…
It reminds me, I also took a Dioctyl and some Docusate. The rock-solid evacuations might ease a little in the morning. Did you see that? That was me being optimistic!!! Me! Me? Worrying, innit?
Waking up all through the night, 4 times an hour on averagely!
Each time, Thought-Storms rampant, both knees hurting arthritically,
Wee-wees galore, getting up and down, good exercise, physically…
Getting out and in the chair went painfully, almost backbreakingly,
On one visit to the nocturnal wee-wee bucket, suddenly…
I realised the time, t’was time to get up, sadly!
However, the Thought-Storms continued, affecting me badly,
Howling around the mind, numbers, calculations, mathematically…
Ghosts, fears, hopes and confusions, mixed maniacally…
Went to fill the kettle, but put water in the saucepan; pathetically!
Left the hot tap running, dropped the milk… I spoke cursingly!
Oh, I wish the Thoughts would leave me, but no, sadly!
Carer Richard arrived, which seemed to ease my mental disarray,
We chatted, both of us relating many a memory,
We have a lot in common, medically…
Although I must say, not academically,
Our natterings went most ambiguously,
I can still access my long-term memory!
My views and thoughts on life today go anachronistically?
If I’ve got the wrong word there, please forgive me…
Richard departed, the brain stopped acting ballistically…
The wee-weeing steadied down… but not entirely,
Cheered up a smidge, I went to get my Strawberry sundae,
But found it had a use-by date on it, for last Friday!
Made a start to this blog, checked the day…Monday,
Thought I’d make a sarnie, last of the beef, oh, Ya!
But the beef had gone off, more stuff to throw away!
Back to the computerisationing, went on an Odeing foray!
Taking time to find a rhyming word, I forgot what I was going to say!
Porcelain Throne time… what will it be like today…,
Oh, that was fine, not messy, good texture… and no delay!
Easiest and pain-free than for many a day!
Coming out, all chuffed, I stubbed my toe on the way…
Shaking Shaun, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, have gone away…
Only just typed this, and Shirley began to jump and flay…
Contentment and hope, I should not really display!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Got the camera out, and found some snaps I’d taken earlier. I don’t think I’ve blogged them yet, but I could be wrong. It has been known!
Josies Sunday Lunch
My Sunday Lunch
My Second Sunday Lunch!
Yes, a little embarrassing that was. I forgot I’d had an earlier nosh, and made another. I gobbled it all up mind. Glutton!
Strayed off of my plans again,
My memory is such a pain…
Got a shave, cleaned the teeth,
Hit my knee on the bucket beneath…
But I mustn’t and won’t complain…
My higher spirits I want to maintain!
Back to photographing again…
The red van parked in the car park? No, surely…
Good heavens, Gore Blimey, and lackaday,
The red van had to park proper… Mayday!
It’s the black car in his way…
Parked in his illegal spot today!
All I can say is Hahaha!
A misty morning dawning,
Stayed this way all day…
Door chime ringing, it’s Josie!
Returning her Sunday dish and tray,
Said she enjoyed it immensely…
That perked me up, egotistically!.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve lived my life, caringly, blindly and anacreontically,
But mostly I suppose it’s been okay, absobloodylutely,
I must have been old minded at birth, characteristically,
There have been moments of my living abstemiously…
I never fitted in, why I didn’t even like Old Mother Riley!
I’d turn from shyly to bravely, and back again, abruptly…
Rarely aggressively, agitatedly, or abrasively,
Often agonisingly, agreeably, and absentmindedly!
Now I live with depression and insanity…
But try to hang on to my natural humanity…
Vascular dementia, stroke, means mental abnormality,
But it’s all part of life, along with dying eyesight, apparently?
Forgetting new things brings forth my acting apologetically,
I admit to acting more and more confusedly…
But this only happens when I remember, I live pathetically,
Abstractedly, physically arduously, but I love laughter abundantly!
By gum, that was deep in parts. Did I write it?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Hello, Esther came in, (Just finished taking an urgent wee-wee in the bucket, too!) She’d picked up a parcel in the lobby, and brought it up for me, bless her. It was the TV remote control that amazon said would be arriving on the 28-29th January? Great! She is going to do my washing that the Meridian Care shower failed to do last Friday!
Wallah! Got the batteries into the remote and tried it out. Tales of the unexpected were one too!
Time to get this blog sent off, and get summat to eat.
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!
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!
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!
I begin with Little Inchies Bladder; I think I used all my luck up for the rest of my life around 1989. I got a hernia from lifting the bins at Hero Drinks at Kegworth, went in to have the Hernia Repaired, which they did immediately, putting me in the Men’s Surgery in Ward 19.
When I woke up, and they told me how lucky I had been! And they were right! When they went in with the laser and camera (Yes, I know… how the heck did get all that down Little Inchy you were going to ask, weren’t you? Well, I don’t know, I was blissfully asleep all the way through the operations!) The Consultant carried on; they found cancer in the bladder, which showed up on the mini laser camera, and being as they had all the same tools needed for the hernia, they burnt it out straight away! But my bladder capacity is reduced by 50%. Fair enough, I thought, thank you!
That brought a smile to my face! But the man wouldn’t let me kiss him. Hahaha!
He added that they would remove the catheter and bag from Little Inchy for me in a short while.
An Auxhilary nurse on her own arrived to do it. The poor gal was a bag of nerves and started to pull it out without bleeding it enough first. I asked her to stop and bleed it a bit more… the gal was shaking, bless her.
Above my ward was Prince Charles come in to have his tennis elbow looked at. The staff earlier were disgusted; the hospital had emptied the ward above me. I could hear them moaning about patients being put into a corridor!!! And set two nurses and a Sister on duty, 24/7 for the duration of the Prince’s visit.
Back to the beside:
A sudden, unbelievably loud screech/scream burst out from a nurse. I think, “Look, look, it’s Princess Di coming in!” At this, everyone who could move did so over to the window to look down at Di and her (they told me later) the armed protection officers, as they got her in through a fire door to avoid the press waiting, with cameras at the main front door!
Most unfortunately for me, the young nurse was amongst the Royalists who stampeded to get a view of Lady Di – and pulled the catheter out, catching it with her foot, I assume, as she rushed for her Royal treat!
So, I was with blood spraying up like a fountain, and covering me the bed, clothes and floor… Which the nurse spotted a minute or two later, and she came to me in a panic and crying at what she’d done! Sobbing her heart out, she was! Other staff arrived, the poor young lass couldn’t stop crying, and eventually, things got sorted.
A ranking nurse joined us and started to tear a strip off of the Axhilary nurse; I don’t know why, (Well, I do, I felt terrible for her), but I said; “No, it wasn’t her fault, I turned to see what the fuss was and pulled it out…” I’m sorry I said that now, cause for the next two days, my name was mud with nurses!
The first wee I took with the catheter out, shot forth as if from a fireman’s hose, bounced back from the walls – and I kid you not, left an imprint of my body on the back wall, with blood around it!
I’ve wandered off the plot here, haven’t I?
Sorry, back to the chinwag with the bladder fun…
Inchcock Gerry: Why do you have days when you don’t want to wee-wee, then go bad at it, mate?
Bladder Inchock: Why? It’s obvious, innit? Anyway, I don’t want to confabulate!
Inchcock Gerry: But for two days, you’ve flowed freely, been considerate?
Bladder Inchock: Humph!
Inchcock Gerry: What’s up? I’ve been taking in the extra fluid. Now it must be gallons you hydrate?
Bladder Inchock: That bloody surgeon lasered me; no wonder I can’t concentrate and urinate!
Inchcock Gerry: You should be glad, freed of death! A bit of pain, indeed you can tolerate?
Bladder Inchock: Listen clever-clogs, weeing for me, is variable, strangulate, freeflow, then it may stagnate!
Inchcock Gerry: What? I make sure water does circulate…
Bladder Inchock: I have pain too, do you appreciate?
Inchcock Gerry: Well, I can only speculate!
Bladder Inchock: I send you messages beforehand, admittedly just a few seconds at times, but you also had cancer on my prostate!
Inchcock Gerry: Oh, that’s my fault too, is it? I did ruminate.
Bladder Inchock: I hate talking to a thicko like you – why didn’t you become a graduate?
Inchcock Gerry: Well, I was uneducated and got a job cleaning the sluicegate…
Bladder Inchock: Sod off! You were chasing girls on yer one rollerskate!
Inchcock Gerry: Times were bad back then…
Bladder Inchock: Other people Inchy, have a toilet inside, not going out into the backyard, and having to wait…
Inchcock Gerry: Trust you to be irritable as you postulate…
Bladder Inchock: Ha! So now you accuse me of having irritable bowel syndrome as you orate?
Inchcock Gerry: I’ve no idea what I’m doing talking to a bladder?
Bladder Inchock: You’d better shut up then cause you’re making me madder!
I got an impulse, after the earlier dream I’d mentioned, and made an ode, a funny one, about last weeks nightmare. I hope it goes down well, I’ve not done a funny rhyme for a while now. Got it done and posted off to WordPress, then Emailed the link.
Then, I realised I had not yet posted the Sunday blog! Moronic mentally malingering man, I am! So I rechecked it again then sent that one off to be published. It was suddenly nearly midnight.
I went on Facebooking catch-up, until nearly 01:00hrs.
I was most disappointed to hear loud knocking again, clunking noises from the flat above at 00:50hrs. I was as near to genuinely angry as is possible! But soon thought, well it might not have been intentional. Hope he’s not collapsed, but the noise was so much a thud, somewhat metallic. I reckon he’ll be okay. Never mind.
Had a look at what is on the TV, As usual, I wore my headphones so I will not disturb any of my neighbours.
Sweet Morpheus was not interested again, so I got settled down to watch some TV. Law & Order UK.
02:30hrs, dropped off to kip as the episode was about ¾ of the way through. At blooming last!
TFZer Film Star lads?
Monday 3rd August 2020
Italiano: Lunedì 3 Agosto 2020
A’morning to you!
06:40hrs: I slowly regained an ersatz appreciation of what was around me. I was droopy-eyed, Anne Gyna was giving me some walloping stabs.
I was more muddle-headed than usual, I stirred, in need of a wee-wee! Got the four-pronged stick, and rose to my full 5′-2″ height, nearly tripped over a slipper (No idea why, or how it got there). Then I utilised the Grey-Bucket, to take a WOPT (Weak-Orange-Painful-Trickling) mode wee. Followed by the traditional nowadays, Post Micturition Dribble, but I am now aware of this problem, and always try to remember to wait a while after the evacuation, in case of a delay in the after-dripping starting, just in case, like. I’ve been caught out before, you know! Tsk! Long-Live the PPs!
Off to the kitchen to get the Health Checks and medications sorted out. I took a couple of sky photographs first, through the thick-framed, impossible for an aged, disabled person to get to clean, windows.
Not sure about whether or not the sphygmomanometerisationing results were good or not, with the DIA being so high?
Got the medications taken. And, my being in a rare industrious frame of mind, I got on the computer to make up a template for tomorrow, first. I achieved this with relative ease. (Superior-Smug-Mode-Engaged!)
As I started on this blog, my usual luck returned, and the Superior-Smug-Mode dissipated rather quickly!
My spirits sank! I felt wrangled and annoyed! But, there was no time for sulking, as the innards stabbed at me, and it was suddenly and abruptly, time for a rush to the wet room for the Porcelain Throne!
Nope, failed again! A rock-solid lack of movement! With twinges that made me fear of leaving for a while, just in case it what it did yesterday, and suddenly freed itself! Still, the crossword book kept me entertained while I waited and hoped.
But no activity. So I decided to get the ablutioning done instead, then if things activated, at least I would be close to the Throne in readiness! And also, be ready for the Sainsbury order arrival! And Liberty-Global disaster of an imitation, pretend internet service, could wait for me for once! Grrr!
It was late enough now, for me to have a proper shower, which is what I think of Liberty-Global, who pay their top man Mike Fries $19m a year, plus bonuses!
With my mind stewing over things, somehow there was no real damaging Whoopises or Accifauxpas suffered?
Plenty of dropsies, of course, that will never cure itself, and Nicidemus’s Neurotramitters will only get worse, the medics told me. So, at least I know what’s coming, which is a far better situation than many people find themselves in.
And the pins were not so pale! But thinner than for years?
I did have a close-call losing my balance, as I was leaving the wet room, but managed to control the lurch-to-the-right for once! I might go back into a Smug-Mode, now! Hehehe!
I got dressed and returned to the computer. But it was slow going and hard work! Most frustrating.
I took a snap from the swivel chair through balcony as the day lightened a little.
An hour or so later, the intercom rang out Dusty Springfield’s “I only want to be with you!” It was the Sainsbury’s order arriving. Not a lot of it, but still enough to cost me £40.92! I got the bags in the kitchen and sorted out the products I’d bought.
A decent selection to go into the fridge, one item for the freezer, which was a pack of Smoked Haddock fishcakes. Might be tasty?
I gt some Surimi Royals, my favourite of all the brands. But for today, I bought a ready-made BLT sandwich, to which I plan to add, egg mayonnaise, more tomatoes and a Hovis Sourdough Muffin, with Marmite on it! Of course, I may change my mind, it has been known. Haha!
Gawd, what a plonker I am! I’d left the tap running, and now had no hot water!Twittleworthy-Idiot! But I’m glad I did the ablutions early!
As I made a brew of Thompsom Punjana tea, I took three photographs of the now darkening sky. These clouds still looked beautiful to me, though.
I took the tea with me back to Computer Cameron and found that the untrustworthy, incompetent, unreliable, skittish, maladroit, deficient, Liberty-Global, Virgin Media Internet, was still so slow!
Not that it gets to, or bothers me, much. Ahem! Hahaha!
I sent off an order from Iceland for the weekend. They may have some of the new kitchen towels in stock this time. It’s booked to come om Friday 7th, twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs.
Butterfingers above me keeps dropping something heavy again, judging by the noise. !
The Internet’s still very slow and jumpy-jerky. So I made up some waste sacks and added them to recycling wite bag.
The plan is, I can drop the rubbish bags down the waste chute, then take the big white one down to the bin. And have a wobble up Chestnut Walk, and call on Desktop Dancer, Obergruppenführeress Warden Deana, and Julie at Winwood Court. I need to talk to someone, it doesn’t matter what about! I’m going stir-crazy! Humph!
So I got the three-wheeler loaded up, and out into the hallway to go to the lift lobby.
Aha, that’s naughty! Someone had wedged open every external fire door! Decorators I imagine, but there were none in sight anywhere.
I got to the chute room and deposited the three small bags. Then back to the lift, and waited patiently. Got down and went through the caretakers’ passage and out to the bin, and left the bag next to it.
The weather seemed to be turning windy, and more cloudy as I progressed towards Winwood Court.
I got in, and they were busy, so I read the notices on the board while waiting.
We’ve lost another tenant, a nice lady as well. That did my spirits no good.
I called at the office with the paperwork but forgot all about leaving it. PPPlonker!
As I departed to go back to Woodthorpe Court, the rain threatened even-more, the clouds grew darker!
When I arrived at my building, I took a photo upwards of the fats, and I reckon it was even darker then!
I got the elevator easily enough, and I went back into hibernation in the flat.
Herbert’s tap-tapping continued, with the odd, louder Clunk or thud. I’d love to know what he’s making?
I made a brew and took the medications. Then I started updating this blog again. The internet was so slow, it was a grind, not a pleasure! Grobbleknangles!
From heaven knows where a blinding headache started! I have sufficient everyday ailments without this! Tsk!
I turned the slow-internet computer off and started to make the cold nosh that I’d planned earlier, but had to divert to the wet room rather swiftly, to the Porcelain Throne!
Another false alarm! I’m getting slightly fed-up. Haha! Not really, I’ve resigned to the internet problem’s not going to get any betterer. The headache behind the eyes is a natural thing, time might heal it. I’ll put up with Herbert’s noise as well. But only because I can do nothing about them!
Back later, I hope.
I’ back!Having made and digested my evening meal.
The BLT sarnie, gherkins, egg mayonnaise, tomatoes, red grapes, twp sourdough muffins with Marmite, for the main course. Oh, and a bag of Marmite crisps as an aside. An apple, a pot of Limoncello dessert. Flavour Rating: 7.2/10 for this effort.
Dizzy Dennis finally eased-off a bit, and the headache too. I put on a DVD to watch, Auf Wiedersehen Pet, the last movie. It didn’t last long, for Sweet Morpheus arrived, and off I nodding. Ahhh!
I woke four-hours later. For some reason, the room light was on? The TV was still on, the remote control for the DVD was resting in the folds of my stomach, snug as a bug! Signs of Nocturnal Nibbling were spread about, unidentified crumbs on my chest, legs and on the carpet at my feet. Cheese waker crumbs were spread further afield, as far as the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket)
I lay gathering some mental control and understanding, and the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, along with left-hand side chest pains, under the shoulder stabbing at me. Anne Gyna, I hope, and not any new ailment! But she doesn’t usually attack me under the armpit chest area. A smidge disconcerting.
I rose from the c1968 recliner, caught my balance and off to the wet room, surprisingly agility. (Agility may be too strong a word, Haha!)
I got there in plenty of time, and the agony began! A painful, long, drawn-out evacuation and struggle to bear the wicked hurt, as the control of the motion was not under my control, but the innards. Not much bleeding, but Harold’s Haemorrhoids stung like hell! In fact, so much pain, I feared my next visit!
A wash-up and medicationalisational activities carried out, a brew of Glengettie tea made. Then I booted up Computer Cameron. To update this blog, and get it sent-off to WordPress.
07:00hrs: I did wake up a few times earlier, but each time, there was no way I wanted to or could get up. I felt as if I’d only just got to sleep, when in fact, I been asleep for hours? I was so tired, still! With no demands for a wee-wee, making it easier for this old chap to nod-off again. Different, worrying, but a great experience! A little guilt perhaps, helped me to go into action mode.
I was up, and admiring my magnificently muscled, firm, fit, young, six-packed body, and caught my balance, within minutes. Ahem!
As I was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, when the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, with some urgency again. I hobbled carefully, but as swiftly as I dare, to the wet room. (To avoid any accidents or innards-controlled unexpected escapages). Arriving well in time!
There was a surprisingly long wait for the motion to begin. Plenty of time for me to access the crossword book, and fail to get a single clue solved. Humph!
The innards controlled evacuation began with a sudden bit of a rush, which caused a moment or two’s worth of Argh’s and wincing of the facial muscles (Hehehe!). Then lasted longer and slower than any evac. in months. I was worn out by the time it had finished! The Silver-lining were, only minuscule bleeding, not a messy affair, and the after-aroma was not too biliously pungent!
However, I lost a lot of time due to the cistern’s failure to clear the contents away again. Jugs of water, in between several flushes, had to be made. It’s still not all gone, I’ll have to keep returning and give it a flush every now and then, and hope for the best. What a palava!
I got the kettle on and took a couple of photographs from the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, unable to get at for the disabled tenants to clean windows. The first one, of below, the Woodthorpe Court car park on Chestnut Walk. Noticing the red sports car had returned. (That should please Kentuckian, Billumski!)
Then I thought I saw bats flying around. After various failed attempts to catch whatever they (2) were, I gave up altogether. Hehe!
Then, taking the medications and doing the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometer figures were healthier today.
Made the brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and to the computer, to make a start on this blog. I was about to start on it and remembered the WC flushing had to be checked on, so off to the wet room. One more flush, and it appears that the content had gone. But I know well, from the experiences of this mechanical-teaser, that it has a habit of regurgitating things, and when I go to utilise it again, I have to start the ‘Get-rid-of-it’ process again! So, I’ll recheck it again later on.
Finally, I got to start this blog off. And yet again, I had to hobble-off to the Porcelain Throne! A longer evacuation session this time. But I had some success with the crosswording, which was pleasing.
I had a wash, rinse, and teeth cleaning session while I was in there. And spotted just how bloodless the body was looking! Hogglesworthy!
As I was taking a photo through the balcony windows from the computer chair, I got a phone call from someone wanting to speak to Angie. I realised it must be for Angie and Roy from the top floor. Asked if she wanted me to take a message for them. The lady didn’t, apologised, and rang off.
I snapped the morning clouds in the sky (which I suppose is normal. Haha!).
Time to get Josie’s meal prepped. It was a bit of the struggle this Sunday, as Dizzy Dennis and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley were both visiting me regularly. I pressed on, a slightly more complicated ‘Cheffing’ session, as well.
Skipjack Tuna flakes in brine, mixed with mayonnaise. Egg mayonnaise, gherkins, beetroot chunks with onion and balsamic vinegar, garden peas, tomatoes, surimi sticks, a bar of chocolate, an apple, and a limoncello dessert for her. Oh, and a can of pink gin & tonic. The fiddly prep work and the dropsies were trying. Yet, somehow or other, I got ita;; ready without a single bruising, cut, or any injuries! First-Class-mug Mode Engaged!
I wheeled it to her door, and we had a little chat, she gave me a packet of shortcake biscuits and again handed me the carrier back from last week. Carrier, Hah!, I must have at least 20 of them in the flat now, and she gives me one back! Hahaha! Anyway, she looked and sounded in fine fetal.
Well, I was up for working then, as Shirley and Dizzy Dennis eased off suddenly.
So I decided to sort out the waste bags, Which was a bigger job than I thought it would be. In the hallway, I ended-up stacking seven bags onto the three-wheeler-walking-trolley, a bit of a balancing act. But with me finding the unexpected smidge of confidence and a willingness to graft, there was no stopping me (Yet!) and I began to push the trolley out through the doorway.
I stopped myself when I realised I had not taken the bag for Jenny. Too heavy to add to the trolley, but it seemed an easy enough task to just carry it to the chute-room by hand.
And to my amazement, it went well. In the waste-chute area, things got a bit hairy. I’d purposely made up small bags so they would go down the chute easily enough, but one white bag did not want to have it. I didn’t want to force anything, so took a carrier bag from the basket and broke it up into two bags, and all with no finger-trapping dizzies or other ailments troubling me! This was all very disconcerting, unnatural!
I left the room and got to the lift lobby. I even go an elevator down to Jenny’s floor, within a minute or so! Luck, good fortune? Makes me shudder!
I put the bag near the door, pressed the bell, and got back to the lift lobby.
The residents lift arrived sharpishly again, I got in the cage, and pressed the floor twelve-button. My mind wandered on all this lack of Accifauxs and Whoopsiedangleplops. The lift stopped, dragging my mind back to the current time, and as I was absentmindedly getting out of the lift, a chap waiting to get on, wittily quipped, “Wrong floor, Gerry!” with a broad grin on his face, and head shaking! He added, “Stick with it, you’ll get there, mate. Hope you’ve some water and food in your trolley!” Hahaha! The wit! The cage had gone down to the 4th floor. It then took me up to my level. I did feel a fool!
I got back in the apartment, and I discovered I’d left two small white bags of rubbish on the kitchen floor. Tsk!
I got the stick and took the two bags to the waste-chute, and on the way out, Neuropathy Nigel had me walk straight into the door frame! Twas a sickening sound, bone hitting wood, I verbalised a few oaths, by then Shuddering- Shoulder-Shirley started to kick of! It was all I could do to walk back to the flat with so little control over the walking stick, and not tumble over! I got in the flat to the knock-knock sounds from Herbert above.
Now this sort of luck, I understand and expect. Much easier to cope with! Hahaha!
I checked the kitchen for safety, got a bottle of spring water, and cordial made up, took the medications with an extra pain-killer (the shoulder felt a bit raw).
I got on with updating this blog).
Took a look for the latest Corona Virus figures, this chart on the right I got from the Your Nottingham web site.
The mental fatigue came on, and I got my dinner sorted out and served up. Ate it, well, most of it, then washed the pots, got my humongous-bellied body into the £300, second-hand, none-working, uncomfortable, rickety-recliner. Put on the original Die Hard DVD, and fell-asleep about ten-minutes into the film. Tsk!
I was woken up by some banging and tap-tapping noises from above. And wrote some notes of the dream I’d been having, on the notepad.
I rose to have a wee-wee and took this shot of the wonderful sky.
Below on the bottom field, were three youths playing music, and seemingly a picnic of some sort. I could hear the squeaky, tinny-sounding music right up here in the flat, but when I closed the window, I couldn’t. I made a brew, of Glengettie, and consulted the note about the dream to write in here.
Got the computer on; disappointingly, much of my scribble was unreadable. Bits of the memory was still in my head, though.
I was in what appeared to me, even in the dream, partly Draycott, Derby, and Leicester, or as if it was around the 1960s.
A bus station, again a mixu=re of various bus stations I had used over the years. I wanted a number 42 bus to Derby, but had to settle for a 4X, got on and paid the fair, and the conductor came back to me and asked for me fair again – we argued, the bus stopped, and we came to an agreement that he would only charge me 5/-, not the 6/11d the fare should have been?
I fell asleep and woke up back at the original station.
I got off of the bus, and saw someone I knew (Don’t know who), and followed him into a gigantic underground world of brick-sided passages, covered in soot.
A bit vague here, the notes didn’t help. Mixed confused memories.
I eventually found myself coming out of the giant cave, and found myself in the Derby Bus Station cafe. I was a child in body, but a pensioner in age? Why I can remember this, especially, I know not? I even have a photograph of the exact area on file? The doors in the centre are where I appeared from the preceding part of the dream.
As I was adding this to the Inchcock Today, the ‘Hum’ got louder and louder until it almost became unbearable? Kluggledanks!
I went in to get the ablutions done, to find no hot water, and found the tap running in the sink! Skullclogglebonks!
So, I got this post done as far as here and will continue the tale of woe on tomorrow’s blog.