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06:10 hrs: I woke after a better night’s sleep. I had slept for six hours and only woke up a few timesāmuch better. I lay there pondering and making plans for the day.
I wanted to get to the Heron store today. Since the food order is expected very soon, I decided to get up and sort the catheter out, check that the new stove is working, and then do the waste bagsānot the ablutions yet. After the food arrives, I can tend to the ablutions. Then, I can update Tuesday’s blog, put on the clothes, and catch a bus down to Sherwood. But, of course, this never happened. This is Inchy talking, after all!
I got the nocturnal catheter bag freed.
What a shade! Blimey!
I titivated the bed and got the trousers out, ready to do battle with later on. (No chance of getting the trousers on or going to the shop, Humph!)
Sorted the waste bags into one bag. I photographed the morning view; I don’t know where it went, but it was not on the SD card?
I tried warming the new mini-oven. To see if it tripped the electrics. It didn’t, but it smoked and set the fire alarm off!
Worried now. I won’t use it!
Carer Shaquille arrived. The medications were sorted. I mentioned that I still had an unreturned laundry bag in the ground-floor laundry room. During Shaq’s call, Anne Gyna kicked off and got worse than yesterday. She’s still with me on and off, at 16:00 hrs.
The Ocado delivery arrived.
I ordered a selection of cream cakes as part of the Christmas treat for the nurses, Carers and staff to have.
Two M&S Eton-Mess cream cakes. Two boxes of their Chocolate Eclairs and iced vanilla cream cakes. There’s another one, cheap iced buns. They were for me.Ā I am a commoner!
Throughout the busy morning, I called the wardens to inform them about the cakes awaiting them in the fridge. I got through 6 hours later to let Warden Julie know. She will come to collect them later. I think they must have been to one of their famous management meetings.
When Carer Kimberly arrived for the financial meet, Arthur Itis had joined Anne Gyna in her attack. Today is not going well, so much for making plans.
I cleared the rubbish from the delivery, returned to the computer, and drifted in an elongated bout of 
. At the same time, Carer Kimberly was dealing with the bank details, then she contacted the chemist to make sure the prescriptions were coming, they were due tomorrow), and anything else that happened just got mixed in with the other things. I think I asked bout the unreturned bag of washing from the laundry… perhaps. Not in a good state now, especially compared to how things were earlier.
I was anywhere and everywhere, not getting much done. Carer Joanne called, and I was as surprised as she was to find I was in the middle of making some more pickled mushrooms!
I have no idea what I did for about two hours. Maybe nothing, certainly not on the computer, I thought. An hour later, I got a text message telling me the Morrison order was en route.
What Morrison order!
I checked the Amazon site, and sure enough, I had placed an order for delivery this afternoon! Now I am worried!Ā Sure enough, the order was delivered to the door.
Opening the bags to see what the ‘eck I’d ordered was a frustrating adventure.
There was little, if anything, that I wanted or needed to purchase. And my bank balance is the lowest it’s ever been!
Shaving foam; I’ve got two cans in the wetroom! Marmite Cheese, I’ve a whole bag in the fridge. A large jar of green tomato salad; I tried one two weeks ago and threw it away; it tasted horrible! MORE CREAM CAKES! I need help here. No memory whatsoever of ordering these! I must have been deep in a seizure like never before. Yet they were items I’d bought before.
Thank heavens, Carer Kimberley sorted the prescriptions out. That is if they do arrive tomorrow, naturally.
Then things got even worse…
I turned on the new oven to test it at a higher level and went to the 12th-floor community rubbish chute with the bags from the unwanted Morrison order. A chap was in the floor’s lift foyer, and we exchanged hello’s. When I returned from trapping my finger in the chute lid, he asked if he could come into the flat to do the checks they had written me about.Ā
The Carers open all my mail, except when they were obviously Christmas cards. I’ve likely forgotten about the appointment. We went to the flat. He was checking some electricals, and I went to look at the new oven.
THE 
A second after I’d opened the new oven door, masses of clear, hot smoke poured out of it!
I was crestfallen. Will anything ever go right for me?
Stupid Question.
I’ve lost the will to bother.
I thought this morning that I was full of plans. I even got Shaquiille on his visit to take a photo of me holding the new oven-packing foam, intending to think something witty up to try and raise a laugh and share it with you all.
Another failed plan for today.
I haven’t yet performed my ablutions or used the Porcelain Throne, medicated any of the six areas of my rhinoceros-like body that I should do twice daily, had nothing to eat, and didn’t want anything to eat. As I type this, another seizure is detected, and Electric-Shocking-Sherida just gave me one.
Anne Gyna keeps prodding me, Arthur Itis does when I move, stand or bend, and I really must stop moaning.
This is probably the lowest I’ve been all year.
And Wardens Julie & Deana have not collected their fresh-cream cakes yet. They must have been busy and forgot to. I hate throwing away fresh food, but I’ll keep them until I know they are not coming… which I’ll never know. I’m glad Jenny and Frank came for theirs and got the Fresh Eton Cream Mess cakes. Hope they enjoy them.
I can’t make a meal cause I’m too nervous to use the new damned fire-alarm-triggering oven.Ā
I can’t get the medicationings and ablutions done cause the gals may come for their cream cake treats. And, I’m losing confidence and heart at the same time here” I must stop moaning; it won’t solve or make anything better.
I’ll have to finish the ablutions and medication late tonight or in the morning. As for sleep, I had six good hours last night.
Now, with all the hassle, Anne Gyna, Shocking Sherida and Arthur Itis, showering and medicating will be a battle for me.
Carer Israel came in on the 18:00 call at 16:30. It matters not to me, though. I gave him a Christmas drink, or I will do it when he does the 22:00 call to take home with him. He can have the Warden’s cream cakes if they don’t call for them. I can’t see them still here at this time. You can never tell. Talking to Israel gave me new confidence, and after he left, I had a go at making some oven chips to eat on Milk Roll bread. 
It’s not the most elaborate meal I’ve made. Oven chips and bread… prisoners get better food.Ā I observed the oven for 25 minutes as the chips cooked. 
But there is no smoke or fire alarm this time! Great! I treated myself to some ketchup in a bowl and ate it while writing this. Enough to satiate my hunger.
Now I’m so tired. I’ll go on the WP Reader and comments and await the arrival of ‘Lucky’ Israel to collect his fresh cream cakes. The Wardens did not call. So, I gave the two expensive boxes of cream cakes to Carer Israel when he made his last call. He was tickled pink.Ā
Best not to waste them.
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A LONG DAY…
& 
joined in the pain-giving antics of the other ailments that had been attacking for the previous four hours of sleep… I’d sooner not mention this again. I may have to start looking for somewhere else to live.
Morning view.
Through the balcony windows.
Afternoon views.
A few hours later. Bootiful!
I worked all day on blogging and still hadn’t caught up. I was well gone by 03:00 hrs before giving it up. That was when the smell of burning was detected, followed shortly by the fire alarm. I think the timing is right.
Huh!. I missed this shot taken earlier.
I got it within 2 seconds… when I looked at the revealed answer. Hehehe!
The burnt potatoes from the large saucepan.
The mess where things had boiled over.
23:40hrs: I removed my over-flabbily-bellied body from the c1968 recliner and utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). A short sharp affair, with a lot of CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) to follow.
No messing about, I got on the computer to create a template for today’s blog. Starting with doing a few graphics on CorelDraw. But, I didn’t get too far, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room. Incidentally, Cartilage Cathy was a lot kinder to me this morning.
It seemed to me that the daily PTDDSB (Porcelain Throne, Daily-Domination-Stakes- Battle) for supremacy in the evacuation was a close thing. Still, a comeback from Constipation Konrad had curbed the rampant messy tendencies of Trotsky Terence for once! So, I had a go at the crossword puzzle as I waited for things to kick-off. Just as yesterday, I didn’t solve a single clue! (Well, I’m consistent, if not capable. Hehehe! The movement started slowly and stayed that way, but no pain or bleeding, and as I said, it was a lot less mess to clean up. I still had to refill the tank by hand though, I think the problem is the fluffy too-thick toilet roll paper.
I decided to get the hand-washing done first. But and however – guess who had left the hot water tap (faucet) to run cold? Yes, pickle-brain Inchcock had struck-again! Gawd-blimey, I this far too often! Hence decision had to be made (another Inchcock problem area!) My EQ told me there nothing to do but press on handwashing boiling the water in the kettle and saucepan, for more Whoopsiedangleplops were on their way! He also called me a name, a naughty one!
So, the half-hour or so handwashing exercise took me nearly two hours! Not to mention the scolding of two fingers fetching the kettle to the sink… Oh, I’ve said it! It’s a good job that I was in a slightly better mood today! I washed the long-sleeve jumper, the jammie-bottoms and the pair of long bamboo diabetic socks. The washed ones from yesterday were not fully-dry enough to put on today, so I got a couple of 100% short-ones to adorn after the ablutions to wear. 
I made a start on moving the stuff back into the cupboard, but soon lost interest!
Since the side-effect-ridden AstraZeneca Covid-19 vaccination was given to me a week last Saturday, SYS has also been higher, its the lowest reading today than for ages. I think I might be getting confused here, between the SYS and the temperature? Well, fancy that!
I found 
an NHS site on Google, where you can put in your reading for SYS and DIA, and you get an instant show of where you stand on the chart, with a black cross! Proof that I was right to worry when the SYS went up to 180 five days ago, well, that was well in the red area! 
Gotten Himmel! Look at the time! What happened, where did it go?
terribly bland, tasteless, watery. Savourless and unappetising. These Don Holio chopped tomatoes needed a warning giving-out about them for anyone unlucky enough to buy any. The Sainsbury crispy smoked ready-cooked bacon slices were very fatty tasting as well! 
However, and leaving the pots in the sink in cold water to be cleaned when I have some hot water again, in the morning, at first, I was well-pleased that I was in time to watch the channel 11, Tales of the Unexpected episodes.
03:45hrs: A zombie woke instead of me this morning…, Oh no, that was me!Ā Hehehe! As I morphed back into reality; as if to validate this, the need for the Porcelain Throne. Which pressured me, to do battle with my gross, nauseatingly, flabby-stomached body. To free it from the Ā£300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, grungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. The one that bullying xyrophobia-suffering, pools and lottery winner, Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. He searched for my valuables, which he found and took, (I still haven’t got them all back yet eight-months later), and broke the recliner while Pete was counting the money he was robbing me of. Still, he gave me a lift in his jam-jar from the hospital to the nursing home when the Stroke Ward kicked me out cause they needed the bed. As Pete said, someone had to pay for the petrol that was used. I’m wandering off subject again, sorry.
Off to the wet room, the feet and toes were painful, just as well that Arthur Itis was not in a bad mood, and Dizzy Dennis along with Shaking Shaun were both taking a tea-break I think. The session was enough to take my mind off of the toes – such as the severity of the evacuation. Constipation Conrad was still in control. Taking the rough with the smooth, Little Inchies fungal lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not bleeding, so fair enough! 
A sprinkling of rain started after I’d took the sky pictures as if it was trying to keep the rainbow on view. I took three photographs through the bottom of the windows in the balcony around the flat. 
I made another brew and took a Senna tablet. And got a large potato put in the small crock-pot cooking for later. 
Ā 
I got the nosh prepared and served up. Eating it was a little vague, but I found scribbled notes that I had difficulty in reading later. 
From approximately midnight, I had Thought Storms aplenty. Broken by a precious few nod-offs, they were only a few minutes long, the instant I jumped awake, it was as if I had been searching in my slumber, for worries, concerns, and fears, building them up for when I woke, and the soul-destroying Brain-Storming recommenced! 
As I gained some semi-balance and was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, and Dizzy Dennis had a go at me. (He’s not attacked me so ferociously for a while, but he made up for it this time!) I floundered and fortuitously fell back in the chair, via hitting my bum and piles on the way down against the arm. By ‘ecky-thump, I felt that! It took me a few minutes to gather myself, get over the shock, and then I tried (successfully) again to get up on my plates (feet). 
I had a quick check on the latest sad news from the virus.
The intercom rang forth, it was the Iceland delivery. It’ll or nothing innit? Haha!
Into the kitchen to do the washing up. I spotted two youths on the bottom field, a skateboarder and a cyclist, so my hackles-lifted. I’m not sure if they were rolling spliffs, cigarettes, or taking crack, but I took this decentish shot of them. When I viewed it on the camera, I realised the Saccades Sandra as playing and jumping about my focussing, shame! I used this shot as a background and made a Thoughts graphic in the morning. 
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? 
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation.Ā But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe! 
seemed to be working okay. 
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow. 
at me as if I’m an idiot. 
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.
06:00hrs: I Woke up, wanting a wee-wee. Moved and felt the wet warm wriggly feeling from the lower regions. So, I launched (Well, struggled out of) my overweight wobbly-stomached body out of the Ā£300, second-hand, none-working recliner, and made my way to the wet-room. Where the innards decided I also needed to use the Porcelain Throne. Heck of a job, a touch of reluctance, constipation coming on I think? But the evacuation was still far less painful than it has been of late. 
While I was performing, the mind appeared to be calmer than last night, and a new temporary, no doubt, eagerness and willingness showed in my actions. Scary! Hehe! I think I might have been rubbing the knee bruise last night in my sleep, it looked a tad tender, but no real pain as such.
I made a tasty strong brew of my beloved Thompsons Punjana tea, ominously passed wind, and took the morning medications. 
I went back into the main room and decided not to get dressed or washed yet. But just put the dressing gown and slippers on, the pins looked much improved on yesterday. 
I got some pictures on Pinterest. Then I went on the WordPress Reader to catch up. Then had hours on the TFZer Facebooking, I love it! 
The door chime rang! I was the Amazon delivering the keyboard cleaner. No instructions with it. Not that I have time to use it anyway. It’s gone midday already! Josie handed me the parcel, and scooted off, wisely from any close contact. 
Back on the computer, at last, to make a start on this blog. After around ten minutes, the door chime rang out again. It was Josie, telling me a loaf and bottle of milk had been unexpectedly delivered from Nottingham City homes. Now that was n
I tried Iceland again, still no slots. Blooming good job that the NCH helped me out! Looks like thick white bread sarnies tonight. I’ve got an out of date can of pork knuckle left, I might have a bash at that! When; I don ‘t know, it’s gone 16:00hrs now.
I took a picture of the clouds in the sky. 
Thank God, everything was alright! Stuttering-Stephany made it hard for the pair to understand what I was saying a bit. 
Then, now relaxed knowing things were alright with Jane and Pete, my thoughts turned to fodder! Pork knuckle, seaweed crispies, bread and butter and out of date, but tasty, last two bits of cheese. Clementine drink, lemon yoghourt and an apple. Taste, 7/10.
I woke and put the gogglebox on. Kept hearing musical sounds that I thought might be the intercom, a few times I got up grabbed the stick and checked the box and the door, but no flashing box or anyone at the door. 
Every fibre of faith, interest in life, and a dose of self-hatred like never before, came over me! It was a plumber from the flat below! 
05:25hrs: It took me that long to get to sleep, I slept through to 0525hrs, I can’t recall any dreaming though. But waking up didn’t seem like a reasonable idea at the time. 
First thing as I hedged my bulk to the right. The Pillow-Shaker Fire Alarm activated. Naturally, this diverted my disease, injuries, and bodily-scars, seeking plans, as I fumbled to get my hearing aids in, grabbed the walking stick, and with ears peeled, I went to investigate the reason. A sort of delayed realisation came to me, and a semi-panic took a hold. 
I tried to get a delivery slot from Iceland. It appears the yare fully booked until next Friday. Shame!
I got the bit of handwashing done, not a lot, as Paul Daniels used to say. The bath towel, and the thin dressing gown. No socks, the damned sock-glide isn’t going have me today! I got the towel done wrung and hung, then did the gown, and hung that in the wet room. 
Now, this makes me sound demented and a bit odd, (Fair enough I am!), but can you not see an expression of the sock-glide on the shower chair?
Time to get Josie’s meal prepared. I didn’t take to long to get it ready. The cheesy potatoes, (the highlight of the meal my customers tell me), had to be made with Sainsbury’s substit
not the tastiest of cheeses, and when warmed up got very stringy. But, beggars can’t be choosers! Without Jenny’s help, I wouldn’t have had any cheese to use. Stuck like glue to the utensils! I left the cutlery soaking in a bowl of washing up liquid and bleach for a few hours.
I went to visit the Porcelain Throne, and midway through the evacuation, the intercom chimed out! It was the Amazon man, with the highlight of the day, the pickle flavoured min cheddars, the wristlet alert bands and some pots to use to separate the seasoning. 
All three items were there. I got them sorted, and could almost taste the Branston Pickle flavoured mini cheddars as I did so. The pots had what I wanted in then the screw on lids, as opposed to the snap-on ones I have at the moment. There are times when Nicodemus’s 
nerve-end die on me, and it’s difficult to sense if the lids are on or not.
I got the plate filled. Took the med’s with me, along with the fodder, Clementine drink, and the light lemon yoghourt.
I rang Sister Jane to advise her of Red Dwarf about to start on the gogglebox, thinking that xyrophobia-suffering, left a fortune in a will of someone he didn’t know, pools and lottery winner, who retired at 50 years of age and has women chasing him, tall, good looking, well-built, Brother-in-Law Lucky-Pete liked Red Dwarf.Ā It was not an easy conversation, Jane was on the Bollinger Brut Special CuvĆ©e again. Hehehe! I’ll get in trouble for telling of that! 
Then, could I get back to sleep again? Nope! I lay there for another couple of hours, Thought-Storms brewing, self-hatred, fears, worries, they all pestered me, before getting to sleep. For three hours! 
Moments after moving my blubbery body mass, both Duodenal Donald and Harold’s Haemorrhoids kicked off. This prompted me to continue with my expergefaction, and get to the kitchen to take the medications. I imbibed an extra pain-killer and Omeprazole capsule with the usual morning selection, to help counter Donald and Harold’s interest in me.
I decided to check the spare room window ledge.
knows?
as a page top later on.
Got the nosh prepared.
Well, no, sorry, that’s a fib. I did throw away some of the tomatoes, due to their lousy tasteless flavour and chewability of softened shoe leather.
ā„ Jenny had left me two boxes of Prfunda Earl Grey tea bags outside the door!
Back up to the apartment.
Time to go down and move the washing from one machine to the dryer.
I spotted a poster from Jenny on the notice board. No Social Hour this week, then. I hope this is not through Jenny being poorly.
Had to on to Chrome again for it to allow me to go to the WordPress reader. Tsk!
Sorted the black bags and took them to the rubbish chute.
Lorries were coming and going, unloading, men going back and forth as they took heaters and equipment to the other block, Winchester Court.
More gossiping at the bus stop.
They looked very keen as they stood around with hands in their pockets, in a little huddle, having a chinwag. Most likely unaware of anything going on around them. Like the street beggar on the corner, or the pavement cyclist who passed them by.
At the Bulwell station, I allowed the mob to alight first and clear the platform before I moved. I thought this advisable so as not to get knocked over, hit or trodden-on in the stampede of the Bulwellhamian passengers exiting and competing with each other to be the first one to do so.
The tram departed, and I made my way alone, across the line into the car park and up into Main Street.
Farmfoods lastly, where much money was parted with in return for:
Got the meal served up. It was so lovely to have found some potato fritters on sale again. Tomatoes, sugar-snap peas, the last potato and the last of the sliced apples. I’ll have to nip out in the morning and get some replacements in.
Fell asleep and it was dark when I woke up.