Impudicity-Inchy, Thursday 11th March 2021, Diary

♥ TFZers – What are they up to, though? Hehehe! ♥


INCHCOCK TODAY

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

♥ By gum, some folks live well – Can I come, please? ♥

Someone should pay for this disaster,

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


INCHCOCK TODAY

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!

As I got up on my feet to catch my balance, Cartilage Cathy gave a nervous-making wobble and had me holding onto the chair, then a realisation dawned… “There were no gurgling and rumblings from the innards” Amazing! It seems that the Numark Instant Diarrhorea tablets from Amazon that I took last night had worked miracles… I had to curb my enthusiasm, though. With my luck, you never know what disaster, embarrassment, Accifauxpa or Whoopsiedangleplop lay ahead! However, I could not resist going into a Semi-Smug-Mode, all the same. I awaited the arrival of the Throne visit with a certain trepidation.

I got the computer on, checked the Pill-boxes from Amazon Tracker. Then realised I’d made a cock-up with it. (Yes, I know it must be difficult for you to understand a young man, of my alertness, education, attentiveness, sharp-wittedness, and diligent meticulousness can get things so wrong! Gesuntight! I’d ordered two and needed four to cover for the monthly prescriptions! What a plonka! So, I ordered two more. The first two are expected today, the next on Thursday. Had a wee-wee.

I make a brew of Thomsons Punjana tea. Neuropathy Pete was giving the right side of me a decent shaking every time I walked or stood up. SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley joined in occasionally.

I got the Health Checks done then. The temperature was a little high again at 37.6°c – 99.7°f. However, I was well-pleased with the BP results this morning. SYS down to 148, DIA at only 74, and the PULSE a decent 83. Had a wee-wee.

I updated the BP log in Excel. Yes, Microsoft, let me gain access to the programme again today! They seem to be improving – no, I shouldn’t have said that, knowing how often the damned thing goes down! A bit of pushing my luck there. When will I ever learn? Hahaha! I took the morning medications.

I made a start on the much longer to do than yesterday updating for the Tuesday Diary. This was because of the Matron’s visit and late deliveries of the tablets. Which needed uploading and sorting before going in the post.  I did get it finished in the end, and I Pinterested some snaps. Then had a look at the Emails as I sent the link off.

Sister Jane had sent a photograph of their last cat still with us, Alberto!

He had had his picture printed in the West Bridgford newspaper! Fame at last! It was apparently used as a header for an article about Fun Pet Facts!

I made sure I’d updated and posted the Tuesday blog. Emailed the link. Had a wee-wee.

Went on the WordPress Reader section. Not much on it today, but what there were, was excellent. I passed some comments on many of them.

I hobbled into the kitchen and got some leeks prepped; it took me a while. Really mud-covered inside the leaves today. Sliced them and put them in the crock-pot, seasoned with a couple of vegetarian Oxo cubes added as a flavouring. I’ll put the heat on later, but meantime, they can be marinating. Nothing, like a good marinationing! Hahaha! Had a wee-wee.

There were no signs of any need for the Porcelain Throne yet. I’m hoping things will not have gone back in favour of Constipation Konrad?

I made a  brew of Glengettie tea, and then I got on with starting this blog going. It was a slow job, not through any ailments particularly, just a sudden loss of concentration for some unknown reason. After a few hours,

I checked on the email from Sainsbury’s to make sure about the ETA for the delivery. Well, they don’t like it when I opt for no substitutes, do they! The bread is going to be short dated now! They always win in the end. Swine! And they have cream doughnuts either!

I had a look at today Amazon tracker for the pill pods. Oh, dearie, me! This one is going to be arriving so late in the day again.

According to the tracker, it isn’t even out for delivery yet; that’ll ruin my sleeping pattern for sure! And then again tomorrow when the others arrive?

I feel down a bit now. Staying up late creases me up! But on the bright side… Nope, there isn’t a bright side or silver lining to this problem! Cragknackles! I’d better get the ablutions done quickly, ready for the food order! The session was a rushed one, as I kept dropping stuff too often, for Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing me up something awful. I didn’t bother fighting to get any socks and went barefoot; well, I had my slippers on.

I’d not long been out, sorting out the black bags and getting them into the box on the walker. But I dare not go out to take them to waste chute and risk missing any of the deliveries that are due today.

When the intercom sounded, and the Sainsbury deliveryman arrived. He put the items in the box and bag, waited for me to check the short date on the milk roll (sell by 11th March, Tsk), but it felt soft enough) I thanked the lad, and he refused a can of vodka in thanks and shot off!

Now, the next twenty-five minutes were spent unloading and taking pictures of all the delivered food. I thought of witty quips to put on each one; eight photographs were taken with the Kodak – Taking the ninth and last one, the Kodak bleeped! Puzzled, I investigated, but the screen had cleared by the time I got to view it? I put everything away and went on the balcony to get some good shots of the view. I took what I thought were some cracking ones… then the Kodak bleeped again…

It was telling me that the camera storage was full! I had failed to put the SD card in! And I have no idea how to get the camera to let me use the memory? I think I am losing it in realtime now!

I was fervidly angry, indeed infuriated with myself! I swore at myself openly, questioning my own parentage! What a moron! All that time and effort for nothing! 

Angry and cursing, I went out onto the balcony to retake a couple of photos. I took two, then dived back inside and shut the window, as the rain saw me a sent down a torrent to try and drown me. I took two shots through the glass. And people wonder why I’m neurotic, distraught, twitchy, nervous, apprehensive, unconfident, and jittery? This is one example of why, a proven born loser-addicted, and well-acquainted with failure! Ha-ha! Now I was getting miffed, riled and hacked-off with things! Still, never-mind, eh!

French Horns

Naughty, but nice!

Trying to work out how to get the camera and computer linked together was another total failure, but that’s alright – I’m used to it. : However, I did find out how to turn on the Micro-mode on the Kodak camera. Yahoo! I decided my first effort in Macro mode photography would be the packet of Fresh Cream French Horns! Unfortunately, it took me eight attempts to get this one taken; all the others were over-smudged?

The Smug-Mode was destroyed when I couldn’t remember how to turn off the Macro-Mode, and finding how I’d got it on in the first place was now beyond my capabilities! Sad, innit? I’ll have to try again later and use the Canon camera again. The Kodak Pixpro AX 651 is just too confusing for this old-fart to master using.

Working on the diary, and I heard the voice of Desk-Top Dancer, ILC, Warden Deana, as she came into the flat. Lovely to see her again. She’s come to do a wristlet alarm check. But we lost contact with Nottingham City Homes (Monitoring) Control room. She tried again, and someone spoke with Deana, I couldn’t decipher or hear properly what was said, but they were having problems, I think. Said she’d have to try again later. I told Deana I’d make an alarm call later on. We chatted for a few minutes, and I had a laugh. Mostly me, moaning about the Astra-Seneka after-effects and not being able to contact the Doctor about it. She had to shoot off on her rounds, which left me somewhat down in spirits. Poor old twit!

AntiD I must say, the Numark anti-diarrhorea tablets seem to have done their job. I’m very impressed. No signs of any needs of the Porcelain Throne, all day long, yet! I just pray that things don’t turn into Constipation Konrad mode! Trotsky Terence is not showing any of his (usual for the last two weeks) bubbling, brewing and gurglings at all.

I checked on the Amazon Tracker and was pleased to see the van was only three stops away from the flats. So, I took the waste bags to the chute and a bag of recyclables down to Roberts’ (Caretaker) bin. In time to catch the van arriving and saving him/her the bother of coming up to the flat.

I was going to take the camera with me to take some outside shots but managed to forget to take it with me, the same as I forgot the keys with the fob on to get back inside the flats and take the mobile phone with me. Well, I might as well just forget everything, that’d be good, cause I wouldn’t know if I had or not? Hehe!

I had a minute or so natter with Robert. And got back inside when he went into the lobby.

Minutes later, the driver arrived, she had eight small parcels in her arms, and I asked if any was for number 72. She handed me the package, and I hobbled, hassled by Cathy’s Cartilage back up to the flat.

I opened the box, and the pill-pods looked suitable if a little on the small side. Now I have to go through all this again tomorrow when the next two arrive. Then I can be ready to use these next month when the prescriptions arrive and make things a little more orderly in the medication stakes.

French Horns I got the nosh sorted out, making sure that the strawberry jam & fresh cream French Horns were not missed off of the tray. Hehe! Of course, I only eat them because of medical conditions. Or should that be mental conditions? Ahem!

The short-dated milk roll bread from Sainsbury’s wasn’t eaten; it was too dry for my tastes. Serves me right for accepting it! But all else was! The tomatoes were a bit bland. The Chilli-chicken was okay. The peas and leeks went down well! The Iceland canned potatoes were a good advert for cardboard-flavoured foods! Taste-Rating: 6/10.

The metabolism was satisfied with this meal, though. I got the things washed-up and settled down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, to watch some TV, somewhat later than usual with having to stay up for the delivery. But Sweet Morpheus was welcoming for once. I drifted off for five uninterrupted, dream-free hours of bliss! Bodacious!


Ineloquent-Inchy, Tuesday 9th March 2021, Diary.

 Can you see where and who?

♫ Who do you think you are kidding, Mrs Euro, if you…♫ Hehehe!

INCHCOCK TODAY

Tuesday 9th March 2021

Swahili: Jumanne 9 Machi 2021

I woke tired from the guilty nightmares I’d been having… but not for long; the gurgling movement from the innards and tiny but lethal escapages of gas from the rear-end put an end to any self-pitying.

I was forced to clamber out of the uncomfortable £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner. Get my onerously over-stomached torso on its legs, catch my balance, and hasten to the wet room!

It as a closer call than yesterday in getting to the Porcelain Throne in time! The movement began, totally out of my control, stinky, sticky and gooey – a sure sign the Trotsky Terence was still in charge.  (I’m expecting some medications to arrive today via Amazon, on the tracker, they haven’t been dispatched yet, oh, I hope they hurry, Hahaha!) You watch; by the time I get them delivered, Constipation Konrad will have regained control. Hehehe!

The session was not a long one this time, but it took a heck of a time to clean up afterwards, me and the porcelain. At least it only took three flushes to clear things away.

I made a brew of my beloved Glengettie tea that now, ten-days after having the AstraZeneca vaccination, I am beginning to taste again!

And got on the computer, and tried the Excel crap, and found it was working. So, I updated the Health Checks listings while I could, but stopped… ‘You are a fool! I said to myself, best to get the Health Checks done for today first. Humph! So, I did. And what a shock some of the readings were! The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured in Guangdong, China, gave SYS 161, DIA 80, Pulse 90bpm.

But more scarifying was the body temperature result. 38.0°c – 100.4°f! Not good, undoubtedly? ♫ Fever, you give me fever…♫ Haha!

The tea went cold, so I went to make another one, but it didn’t happen.

I got sidetracked, yet again, and sorted the hand-washing out.

Placing the dryer clothes on hangers above the kitchen window and the still damp ones on the server-trolley in front of the wall heater. I put the imitation yarmulke cap on the stand-up clothes airer to dry quicker.

Took the morning medications. Then back to the computer and got on with updating the Monday I.T. Diary. I got it finished and Pinterested some photo’s, then I sent the Email link out.

I went on Facebooking next. Had a good long, enjoyable session. Then went to the WordPress Reader section to view the new posts and make some comments. I moved onto the WP Comment reading and responding.

Then I had a look at the local E-magazine for something of interest.

  1. Nottingham City Council has voted to bring in total a council tax increase of 4.99% from April. The increase, made up of a 1.99% rise in direct council tax and 3% in the adult social care precept, has been voted through at a full council meeting as part of a cost-saving budget that will see some £15.6 million of savings next year. The council has highlighted an additional £36 million in cost pressures to be borne over the next financial year, following a drastic reduction in the amount of money allocated to it in central government revenue support grants (RSGs). A shame, all part of the Covid Claw-back! Utility price rises, buses taken off that served the flats, Bank decreasing interest rates. It doesn’t stop there; Rents have gone up, water rates, Council tax, and more! Sob!
  2. Residents are being warned about phone call scams, including people pretending to be police officers after two elderly victims lost more than £15,000. Nottinghamshire Police say the scammers are using sophisticated “spoofed” telephone numbers, which appear to be the police, helping to gain contact with their victims. As part of the scams, a Hucknall man in his 80s handed more than £11,300 to the fraudsters, while another report from Newark saw an elderly lady lose £4,500 – both to a man pretending to be a Cambridgeshire Police officer.
  3. Latest Covid-19 numbers declared for the last seven days. Looking much better now, but complacency can be a danger to us all, still!
  4. Notts EuroMillions winner Matthew Topham; took his eyes off the road to grab a teddy bear before causing a fatal crash, Killing a pensioner.
    Topham, who was driving a BMW X6, admitted causing the pensioner Jane Regler’s death by careless driving but denied two other offences. The trial continues and is expected to conclude on Wednesday. Still, he needs not to worry about being raped if he goes to jail (but I doubt that he will; affording good lawyers). He’ll just pay the gangs for protection in there.
  5. Nearly six million people could end up on a “hidden waiting list” for NHS treatment and services in the wake of the pandemic, it has been revealed. The NHS Confederation says significant numbers of people have not come forward or been referred for treatment due to Covid-19. The body, which represents organisations that commission, and provides NHS services, is warning “urgent action” is needed. Well, as if I didn’t know! I wish they’d tell the uncontactable Doctor at the Sherringham Park Medical Practice! Still, if I feel brave enough, I can ring 111 and ask for advice… maybe, possibly… perhaps?

A lot of wee-weeing up until about 05:00hrs, now they seem to be trickling off? Haha! I made a brew, and I nibbled some mini Swiss rolls.

Then, with Excel working and giving me access to the HC listing (I know, I was amazed too!), I got it updated and took a snip of today’s High Blood Pressure, revealed on the NHS site, where you can put in your SYS and DIA, and get an assessment of the results. I’m still in High BP. Which surprised me in a way cause I’m not feeling stretched or whatever the word is… tense, perhaps?

Time to get the ablutions tended to. Off to the wet room.

Another great session today! Even better, because I got the short cotton socks on afterwards, without using Sock-Glide-Glenda! Hehehe! My decision-making capabilities have all but gone, you know. Do I risk falling on the floor by not using Glenda? Or, do I risk getting crippled bloodied finger ends and stubbed toes? Anyway, as I said, I used the risky back in the corner of the room, agonising from Cathy Cartilage’s point of view, have each leg and lean back into the corner, and hope to keep my balance between putting the socks on?  – Dithering, timidity, shilly-shallying, humming and hawing, and equivocating are taking over a big part of my psyche lately. I’m doing it again now!

Only about eight dropsies in total. Now falls, walking into anything, dizzies or knocking into or anything over at all! The legs looked a lot better after I’d got the socks on. Haha!

Only painful in the extreme Cathy Cartilage was any real bother. The medicationalisationing was handled easy enough without any real incidents. And Harold’s Haemorrhoids were calmer, and no bleeding! Grrreat!

I got the handwashing done, deodorised, wrung and hung above the sink!

I rang ILC, Night-club desktop dancer Warden Deana a ring. It went to the answer-phone. Maybe she is still on holiday.

Back on to the computer I went. I checked the Gooogle Calendar. To see if I’d got the ordered stuff, especially the anti-Trotsky Terence medications, from Amazon dates mixed up again, and some might be arriving today. Of course, there was no need to do this, with me being a man with an excellent memory like what I have. Ahem!

Aha, fantastic, the Smecta anti-diahorrea solutions arrived!

But the instructions were beyond even the powers of my reading glasses and magnifying glass!

The first thing was to make up a mug and get it taken! Feeling more confident now, and anticipate when the tablets arrive, and I got one of them down me, Trotsky Terence may abate a bit!

As I was taking it, I heard a clunk from the hallway… the Post Office had delivered the Numark medications! Great timing. So got them collected and took two straight away! Now I have even more hopes for some relief from the gooey, sticky, yet watery, stinking diarrhoea! I’ll find out in the morning… Dang, dang, dang… Dang!

Then, the door chimes rang forth with Dusty Springfield’s tune. It was the Community Nurse, Matron Jackie.

I responded to all her questions, perhaps overly so, on the Astra-Zeneca after-effects and how poorly I felt. I mentioned the trouble in getting in touch with the doctor’s surgery for help and guidance. Little response, I think she knew of the surgery’s problems; well, all surgeries are having at this time.

She was not happy with the mess the medications were in. I did explain about the chemists going back to boxed and not potted prescriptions, but it sounded like an excuse, even to me as I spoke. I decided that in the morning, I’ll see what pill-boxes were available on Amazon, get some to start again with from scratch next month, and throw away the current mishmash of boxes.

She said she was reading up and learning about Peripheral Neuropathy and asked some questions. The right PN affected knee was jumping at the time.

Then she took my BP and temperature. Looked at the record log and suspected the thermometer might be not working correctly. She had a look in my ear-holes and reminded me to put just olive oil in daily (which I do, it’s about the only thing I do keep up with!)

I felt adequately spoilt with the attention showed me by Matron Jackie ♥. She wondered why I had not called her when the vaccine problems started. I meekly told the truth; I’d not thought of it. But anything else happens, and I will ring her number in the future!

She departed, and I wallowed in the memory of seeing and getting her help.

My attention turned to the Nosh. Pork Knuckle, garden peas, a few sugar snap peas, tomatoes, potato fries, a Marmite chunk. With some milk roll bread – sounds good to me! So, I made it up, plated it, and on the tray. I made some mini-Dagwood sarnies with the milk roll bread as I tucked into it. Fantastic meal! (Of course, I was in a super-good mood, having just been spoilt by the nurse’s visit) Flavour rating: 8.5/10!

Did the pots, and got a wash. Took the evening medications with a Numark anti-Trotsky Terence tablet. Then settled to watch the Tales of the Unexpected on the box. I did get through the first half-hour episode, albeit with a few momentary nodding-off spells. As the ending music came on and woke me, I had to give up, as the weariness dawned. I turned off the goggle-box, and fell asleep peaceably, into a dream and nightmare free sleep of five-hours! Super!

Irked-Inchy – Monday 8th March 2021 Dairy

 

♥ TFZers relaxing in the Garden… oh, yes? Hehe!

What’s going on here, then?


INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 8th March 2021

Catalan: Dilluns, 8 de Març de 2021

00:30hrs: I woke to require a wee-wee and fought to dislodge my bouncy, prodigiously over-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

Caught my balance (eventually) and meandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). I suffered from a lot of PMD (Pre Micturition Dribbling) before I got there. Embarrassment-Mode-Engaged! As I decided to go to the wet room for a clean-up, gaseous wind escaped from the rear end, and the haste to the Porcelain Throne took on a new urgency!

I got there barely in time. Trotsky Terence was in charge again, even more so. The evacuation started of its own accord, Wet, but gungy and gooey again! What a mess to clean up, the bowl, me, from the escaping wee-wee, swapped PPs… and had a wash. Then needed to refill the water tank a few times by hand from the sink to clear the evacuated product! This was too much like hard-work to wake up to, Tsk!

I got the Health Checks done. The Boot’s Chinese Sphygmomanometer gave forth worrying results again. SYS 162, DIA down to 76, and the pulse was up to 91bpm!

I’ll check on the NHS site in a bit, but it didn’t look right to me.

Hong Kong made contactless thermometer shoed 371°c – 98.78°f. It’s not too high, methinks, or is it?

I went on the NHS BP site to find out if I was in the red or amber. I soon found it was well in the red High Blood Pressure area on the graph.

But it was actually a bit down on yesterday morning’s reading? (I think).

Mind you, yesterday being a Sunday, I’m not really surprised. Even the thoughts of Sundays send my BP, pulse and depression rising! Hehehe!

I tried to go on to Microsoft Excel, but again it wouldn’t let me. Gave some garbage about being updated again? Most annoying considering I’m paying for some extras on it… mind you, I can’t remember what they are supposed to be! I’m doing a lot that nowadays… not remembering!

I had to put the Canon camera on charge and nipped onto the balcony to take the view and Chestnut Walk photographs, using the Kodak.

Then, the Porcelain Throne visit no. 2 arrived! A repeat performance as the first visit, but, thankfully, without the PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble). I don’t want to fill this diary with wee-weeing, but they got more frequent throughout the day and were all a smidgeon painful. Humph! Maybe I took two Furesomides, one being instead of the Beta-blocker?

I completed the Sunday Diary updating and emailed the link. Pinterested a couple of photos. Made a brew of Glengettie and back on the computer. Made a start on this diary, then went on Facebooking for a while. Next, I visited the WP Reader Section. Then read and respond to some comments. Only two today – am I losing my appeal? Hahaha!

I made and sent off an order for Iceland for delivery next Friday, 12th, twixt 06:00 > 08:00. Started sneezing again, and the shivers have come back?

I’ll make another brew and got some biscuits to nibble. Then off to get the ablutions done – I got side-tracked yet again, and I got the handwashing in the sink to soak in the Surf with tropical Lily and Yang Yang, soap powder, for after the showering.

Off to the wet room. Ablutioning: It’s never gone better than this morning! A total of about six dropsies, Grrreat! Only two tiny nicks shaving, and it seemed like a flash, and I was all done and towelling off. And; the medicating was problemless!

Which, of course, brought me to a decision making time… I was going to wear a pair of shorter cotton socks today – which I was tempted to put on with Sock-Glide-Glenda!

Changed my mind and adopted the ‘in the corner’ position with the door behind me. I flipping changed my mind again, as I recalled yesterday’s tumble doing it this way, albeit with the extra-long socks. Then bravely, nae… heroically, I decided to use Glenda, fearless I was! (But, I soon turned into a whimpering wreck!)

I got both socks on without getting any bleeding, trapped fingers or stubbed toes, or welts accrued. Just as I was considering upgrading my Smug-Mode… I dropped the Sock-Glide-Glenda as I putting her back on the shower chair! A corner landed on my right ankle, and it bounced up again; it clouted and set off poor Cathy’s Cartilage and slid down ti hit my left big toe a wallop!

Of course, I merely laughed it off and had a joke with Glenda as I threw her in the corner of the wet room (luckily resisting the urge to kick the damned frame!) Fighting off crying, gritting my teeth and feeling a right fool! Things were going so well, as well! Thunderclapilisations!

I got the Phorpain Gel out again and gave Cathy’s knee a good rubbing in of it. But, I had only myself to blame. But I didn’t. Hehehe!

I got the handwashing done, a bit more of it today. I used the powder Surf; it does smell nice! Standing there in washer-woman style at the sink for a while, upsetting Cartilage Cathy, as was expected. I must try to remember to keep ringing the clothes out!

I made-up an Iceland order. For Friday 12th, between 0600 > 08:00hrs.

Then prepped some leeks to go into the crock-pot for later. I may have been a little risky, with Trotsky Terence being so rampant, but I decided to have a can of Chilli-Con-Carne this afternoon, and I aim to add some peas and the leeks. They smelt excellent cooking. I added an Oxo cube and some Bisto Best beef granules.

Then with Iceland not selling the anti-Diahorrea medication yesterday, I had a look at what was available on Amazon. A box of 30 sachets of ‘Specta’ acute & chronic, Instant Relief powders was ordered.

Then I checked on the Amazon site to see what time they may arrive, and I found they were due tomorrow, not today. Tsk! Humph! I got myself in a pickle there! Rather confused?

Maybe I shouldn’t risk the Chilli-Con-Carne, then? Mmm!

Then it dawned on, the Vampire nurse is a little later than usual arriving? Mind, you, some don’t come until it’s my head down-time.

I do feel a right schnook! I had a look at the DVT Warfarin card for the last visit. The next vampire nurse blood test is not until the 22nd of March! Blimey, that’ll be a gap of five or six weeks without a Warfarin blood test! 

And I was relying on talking to the nurse about my problems. It’s been so long since I got through on the phone or by email to the Doctors surgery; the 2nd- vaccination is due. I know not when – Vaccination- centres are closing due to supply problems… And I do need some anti-diahorrea medications, but I am not allowed out from lockdown until at the earliest, the 31st March… I’m all fed-up again, now!

The message came up to say the Amazon Alchohol-free-wine was one stop away! So, I took the two bags of waste, got them on the trolley, took one bag to the waste-chute, and the other down to the caretakers’ bin. Got down in the lobby and realised I’d not took the camera with me. So, back up to collect it, and down again. Cartilage Kathy and Arthur Itis both displeased with me, and hobbling was getting more difficult. The aches from Sock-Glide-Glenda didn’t help, either. I noticed the workmen had started doing some electrical wiring.

No sooner had I got into the front lobby than the Amazon driveress came it. All four bottles were in a box with cardboard dividers. That box just fitted in the waste box on top of the trolley. Hello, a bit of good luck there… it’s worrying, you know!

Up in the elevator and back to the flat, Josie came out to hand me the tray and utensils from the meal yesterday. But I was struggling to get the trolley-guide into the hallway. She asked what I was doing, and I told her. Trying to get the box of bottles out of the waste box, so I can keep them in it for when Sister Jane can get to collect them, but they were now tightly ensconced. Hehe!  So she took the dividers out of the delivered box and started to tear them up! I managed to stop her – it’s great when two deaf people try to communicate, innit!

I thanked her, I think, and got the box in the hallway. I took one out for Jenny, Doris and Frank, and can put the alcoholic ones I bought last November for Jane & Pete in with them later. I nipped the wine and mixers down to Jenny’s; it was lovely to see her again after so long, from a distance, of course. I got back up to prep the meal.

I strained the leeks and put them with a can of American Chili-Con-Carne, in the saucepan. Added a little more grave seasoning, and some passata with basil, to the mix.

Then updated this blog to here and now must go check on the fodder. Ah, already, so I added some potatoes, stirred it and got the crock-pot washed. Very late for me now, poor old sausage. Hahaha! A Taste-Rating of 7.5/10 given.

I hoped to watch ‘Tales of the unexpected’ for an hour, and I was awake when it started. But only managed a minute or two, and Sweet Morpheus took me into a sleep that lasted for about a good five-hours, of guilty nightmares, and I woke with a desperate need of the Porcelain Throne!

Impugner-Inchy, Sunday 7th March 2021 Dairy – Argh! Sundays!

♥ The TFZer Garden of Love ♥

Care Home Sports – Hehehe!

INCHCOCK TODAY

Sunday 7th March 2021

Greek: Κυριακή 7 Μαρτίου 2021

00:00hrs: I stirred after sleeping for five-hours, but they were broken ones, disturbed by repeated wakings up, silly thoughts and nodding off again! Tsk! And a feeling of doom and gloom lingered in my tortured brain! Likely due to the series of dreams I’d been having!

I  boldly heaved and puffed away, freeing my abdominous over-bellied aching body from the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, and rose up on my feet, to catch my balance. Argh! Both knees gave me pain; the right one, with Cathy Cartilage, was really keen and sharp! My hobbling was so slow and so carefully done after this. I realised and remembered then, the Morrison order delivered yesterday by the Amazon shopper! Me hobbling down to help him carry the stuff up to the flat. And the git just leaving all the bags in the front lobby of the building. The agony of all that walking and carrying brought thoughts of malice, hatred and revenge-seeking! Which soon dissipated, as I realised this is not my style! No matter how the chap treated me, hurt me, and caused me such discomfort, I must not lower myself to his and Amazon’s standards.

I was now feeling calmer in myself, although in pain still, thanks to the ignorant moron. (Whoops!) My mind was distracted (it does that a lot nowadays!), as the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived… and a gaseous one too, judging by the escaping bubbles of air (I hope!) from the rear-end. So, I made my way to the wet room with all available haste!

I’m so glad I didn’t hesitate; no sooner had the PP’s come down, the action started! Trotsky Terence’s revenge! Short, smelly, sticky, gooey… but no bleeding from anywhere at least! And just two flushes needed to free the bowl of the evacuated product! Mind you, I was amused to see after the second pull, bubbles continued to come back up from underneath the water in the porcelain for a few minutes. I took this photo of them, but they do not show up much on it. I swear I could hear a sort of gurgling noise as they came to the surface?

The cleaning up needed and medicating took me along time. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were very sore. A dollop of Phorpain gel was rubbed into the knees. And I realised that I had been sleeping, wearing the bamboo diabetic socks on last night! A ‘No-No’ that is! I pulled them down to see if the muscles in the leg had gone soft, and they really had! Naughty, Inchcock, stupid, Inchcock! I’m not going to bother to take them off now, though; I’ll do it later when I handwash them with the shirt. I do feel a fool – I’ve never done that before? I must have an advice notice somewhere about what to do if you do sleep in the hosiery. I recall getting one from the neurologist at the Mary Potter clinic? I may have to get help in searching for it, Hehe!

I went through to put the kettle on and a wash-up… Unglefrogwogglings & Thunderbogworthyness Idiot! I’d left the hot water tap running again! Stone cold! I’ll miss doing this when I snuff it! Hehehe! But I was so angry with myself!

Instant Ode assembled: I made a brew to drink and stew, but what can I do? Doomed, I will be! Deaf, can’t hear running water and cannot wee-wee! In pain and pissed-off with me! I’m a social outcast, an old logicality-abortee! Not a good rhyme, but it flowed out easily enough at the time!

I nipped out on the balcony to take a shot of the view. But the Canon camera does no do night shots very well, as you can see with the results of my photographicalisationing!

I’m not sure what I changed on the camera or how I did it if I did. But the ratio came out different to the usual wide mode? As I checked on the selector on the camera, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) had a go at me, and I turned the dial, so I could not identify which option I’d selected. Not that many of them mean anything to me.

I returned to make the brew of Glengettie tea, passed wind, considered if I needed to return to the Throne, decided not, and got the Health Checks done. At least these photos came out in the proper ratio-shape?

The body temperature was 36.4°c – 97.5°f, but I cannot access the Excel log record because Microsoft was updating again and wouldn’t give me access!

I think it was better than yesterday, anyway.

The Boots Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, worked for the first time today. Revealing a high SYS of 170, SIA at 80, and the Pulse down to 85.

I got on with updating the Saturday Diary, not that much needed doing. I soon had it all finished.

I went to the NHS BP site and input my figures. Oh, dearie me! Way-up in the red today!

Today my BP was well in the red!

Perhaps, I might be dead?

I wish someone had said! Hehehe!

Hopefully, a nurse should be calling on Monday to take my Warfarin blood test; I can point it out to her if she’s not too busy.

No chance of getting through to the Doctor… well, I might, but I only get recorded messages about Covid. Then, the ringing tone, followed by another recorded message telling me they are getting an extraordinarily high volume of calls, please ring back later!

I know, I’ll ask them to bury me with a printout of the HP figures, providing Microsoft will allow them access, then they can read them too late to save my life, the high numbers involved? Good idea? Oh, damn! I’m being cremated, ain’t I! Hahaha! It’s such a warm, comforting feeling, knowing one is so cared for in one’s dotage and psychoneurosis years, innit?

Then, I emailed the link for the diary off. Pinterested some photos and went on Facebooking catching-up. I started sneezing repeatedly, and a few shivers went through me. Hello, what’s going on here? 

Then, I visited the WordPress Reader Section. This post was incredible; here is the link:

https://offcenternoteven.com/2021/03/06/ghost-mousies-in-the-sky/

An excellent parody song on this one. And a link to an older one, too; cleverly performed! You should like both of these, for the tune and Spunk, the pussy cat antics with a mouse!

https://photos.tandlphotos.com/blog/2017/9/spunk-fought-the-mouse-and-the-mouse-won. 

I went on the WP comments reading and answering.

Soon be time for the Ablutions to be done, I’ll have a mug of Glengettie tea and a nibble, methinks.’

Ablutions: A remarkably calm, almost injury-free session. Fewer dropsies than usual! Nasal, teeth cleaning, even the shaving was cut-free! The showering smooth and safe. The medicating went just as well. However, getting dressed proved painful! Only two accifauxpas (but they felt like dozens!) Hehe!

Getting the socks on, I actually felt proud of not using Sock-Glide-Glenda. But wish that I had afterwards! Two tumbles, one for each sock! Stopping the bleeding from the hip where I hit on my way down took a while and much medicating. The left-leg fiasco had me going backwards and sliding slowly down the door! Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not pleased in the least! Ah, well! Oh, the sleeping in the bamboo socks had left me with some new blotches. The old ankle-ulcer wound was itching like mad! So, I put 100% cotton socks on today. Cathy Cartilage looked a bit temperamental, too! No wonder she’s giving me such jip!

I made a start on prepping Josie’s meal. Tomatoes, cheesy mashed potatoes as she likes them with plenty of Leicester cheese, well-buttered. And some Scottish Kippers with butter. A blotch of her favourite cheese, unopened so she can eat it anytime. A limoncello and strawberry dessert, and delivered it to her door. I wobbled a bit with the tray as I sneezed and spilt some butter from the kippers onto the tray as the gal opened the door. She was not impressed with me. Also, when I got back, I’d forgotten to photograph the meal! Ah, well, you can’t win em all!

I got in and sorted the eight black and blue bin bags. Then, I got them on the box with the others on the walker-trolley and off to the waste room. It was a deathly-quiet Sunday routine. But to perk things up a little, I trapped a finger in the cast-iron chute lid. I swore mildly and then returned to the apartment.

I got the handwashing done, only two pairs of long bamboo socks, and hung them above the kitchen sink to drip dry.

I moved the leek and potatoes from the crock-pot into a saucepan on the hob. They smelt good! Then got a ring-pull can of Stewed Steak, but as usual, things don’t go right for me very often! The ring-pull came away from the can! On the label, do not open this can with a can opener, hand or automatic – Use the ring-pull for access! Well, that advice was crap, then! I tried it nervously on the auto-opener, of course, but it didn’t work; the ridge was far too high for the blade. Now, what do I do?

I tried again at an angle; and was not sure if I’d drop the can, machine or both, but it worked somehow. This was mainly due to the respite from SSS (Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) and NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters). I went into a bit of Smug-Mode! Then poured the contents into the saucepan and added Best Bisto Gravy granules and an Oxo cube to the mix. Gave it jolly good stirring, and after a while, I had a taste… Not bad at all!

I gave Sister Jane, well, husband Pete, a ring. I felt sure it was this week that he had to go back to the hospital for a conference meeting with the doctor. Thought I’d cheer him up a bit first. But no, I was wrong again. It was Sister Jane’s turn this week! So I had a chinwag with her, but it was a farcical effort; we both seem to have hearing problems now. Hehe! Wished her well for the Doctors visit and chatted about nothing that mattered. But I enjoyed it, all the same.

Then I tried to get a slot with Sainsbury’s for next Thursday or Friday. But they only some free on Wednesday 10th March. I got an early one, 7>8am. Made the order and decided to start sorting my own meal out.

All the time and effort was well worth it. Although I spent a long time cleaning the pans first, it was still hot enough when it came to eating them. All it was, was a well season pot of canned stewed steak, potatoes and leeks. A flavour-rating of 8.8/10!

I put the pots and tray in the sink to soak overnight and settled to watch something on the TV. Ah, I remember now, it was ‘Kitchen Nightmares’.

The sleep soon came, but it was a sad night again; I was forever seeming to wake up, with dim memories of a terrible dream, but could recall nothing, other than the sensation that I was young again during the nightmares. I think they may have been repeating ones? Maybe not, though.

Imputed-Inchy, Saturday 6th March 2021, Diary

 ♥ Classy TFZer lassie Gladys! ♥

INCHCOCK TODAY

Saturday 6th March 2021

Igbo: Satọde 6th Maachị 2021

01:25hrs: I woke and lay there, desperate to claw back some of the memories of the many dreams I’d been having. But, it was not to be. I know that some were had a joyful nature to them, and I had the abilities (in the dreams) that have been long lost to me! Klappboggleworth! I could not remember any details… well, other than I was in raptures and Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding. So there had been some inordinately rare movement in that department!

The Daktacort ointment will have to be applied to stop the bleeding, so I have no choice other than to extricate my generously-over-ample stomach and body from the c1968 recliner, catch my balance of trot (limp) to the wet room to do so. I arrived, and I found I needed to utilise the Porcelain Throne first.

Oh, dearie me; Trotsky Terence was back in full-control again! A 3-0 win over Constipation Konrad. I’d just picked up the crossword book as well, in anticipation of the delayed kick-off that I’ve had for the last three visits to the Throne. The semi-liquid evacuation started at a fair pace. But things got stuck-up and very gooey, messy then. I waited, hoping that the mess would flow again, and even got three answers to clues!  Sure enough, the movement began also, but it was so squooshy, stinky, and a right flaming mess to clean up – with Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding and dripping down the legs, and the PP’s down, naturally, this made it a mammoth job to clean up! Still, it didn’t bother me much; I just pressed on and cleaned it all up?

Fantastically, the bog’s first flush cleared the sticky mess and all of the toilet paper in one go? Not been known for months that!

Then, of course, the onerous job of medicating and cleaning things up in the front lower area had to be done. I started the last Dakacort tube and went through the as expected, painful job of applying the ointment. Ooh, argh, Eeek! But it stopped the bleeding in a short time (phew!) I washed around and changed the PPs, had a belated wee-wee, and went to get the Health Checks done.

I made a brew on the way, took the missed evening medications (Ahem!), and tended the Health Checks. The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer readings were SYS 166, DIA 76 and PULSE 92. All a smidge high, I thought.

The body temperature on the new contactless Chinese thermometer came out as 36.8°c – 98.24°f. For some reason, beyond my capabilities to work out, the Canon camera photo came out all red? But the screen was in light-green? Hey-ho! 

I went to open Excel to compare and record the readings on the graph, but guess what? I couldn’t access Word or Excel… Again!

Why do they charge me for extras I can’t remember asking for on MS Office, and then they deny me access. This is the third time they have updated, and I couldn’t use either for a day and a half! Well, I’m disgusted with them! Do the profitable morons think we are all idiots? Ah, well, in my case, perhaps! What do I do if, this time, it doesn’t come back on? I must think of another way of storing my medical recordings. It was so easy to start with to send them to the clinic, as well. Damned Microsoft Gits!

I got the Friday Diary finished. Emailed the link and Facebooked.

The ablutioning time arrived, earlier than usual. I usually do them at 08:00hrs, which should not disturb the neighbours’ sleeping (lucky monkeys!) With the Morrison delivery being due, twixt 07:00hrs and 08:00hrs, I had to start the session by 06:00hrs.

So, off to the stand-up ablutionalising session, I hobbled. As I took off the long bamboo diabetic socks, I decided and got them soaking in the kitchen sink to wash afterwards. I just can’t make my mind up or stop fretting and thinking, can I?

Back to the wet room. The nasal clearing went well enough, no bleeding or choking! Then I got the teeth cleaned, a lot less painful this morning, oh, three dropsies!

The shaving started, and a mystery found here; as I was bending down to pick up one of many dropped razor, some blood dripped down onto my nose? I investigated and saw a little cut on the top of my bald head? How? No razor goes up there, no need? Anyroad, it was only a tiny nick… possibly done by one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court; the phantoms, kelpies, spectres, poltergeist, spirits, manifestations, zombies, demons, cacodemons, rakshasas, hellions, aliens, extraterrestrials, hobgoblins, apparitions, elfins, pishogues, apparitions, gremlins, and ghostly goo-like Ectoplasms! Hehehe!

But I did better shaving the face and neck, not a single nick at all!

I had to wash the new tackle department, of course, if I triggered the fungal lesion off again. All went well, then the getting on of the new bamboo hosiery, and not using Sock-Glide-Glenda, either! Which proved a painful experience and a mistake, perhaps? Tsk! Rolling up the first sock, I cunningly placed my bum in the corner of the room to try and avoid going over. Noteworthy, the hose went on at the second attempt, and I could have sung-out with joy! (I think I did, actually?)

Then with the second sock, things did not go so well… As I was full of confidence now, I rolled up the hose but could not get the Cathy Cartilage and Peripheral Pete affected right leg up high enough, and foolishly, stood with the leg part-way up to the other knee, and over I went! Clattering down the wall and hitting Harold’s Haemorrhoids on the floor cabinet on my way to the floor!

However, I did get them on eventually! Hahaha!

The silver-linings were that the piles did not start bleeding, nor the fungal lesion. So, although I was annoyed at myself. I realised it was my own stupidity that caused the calamity, so no moaning from me about it! (Well… a smidgen, perhaps?)

Got the Germoloid on the haemorrhoids, some more cream, well, ointment, on the fungal lesion, and olive-oiled the ear-holes. Sprayed some manly deodorant all over me (Old Spice, I think?),  started coughing, and tidied the room up. Off to make a brew of Glengettie.

Washed the socks and got them hung above the sink to drip dry. I’ll move them nearer the heater when it’s safe to do so, and no chances of any dripping. (Pork or beef! Hahaha!)

Back on the computer, but the delivery was due, so I thought I’d go and help the man carry the stuff up to the flat. What a mistake to maker!

I went down to the front lobby with the box on the trolley-guide; at least I should help a little in getting the bags back up to the flat. The man was not a very lovely person and seemed to take an instant dislike to me before I said anything to him, apart from, Good morning! He was keen to see my I.D., and I told him it was up in the flat? He checked my date of birth. Questioning each detail. I put two of the lighter bags in the box on the trolley and began to take it inside… as I turned, the man was driving off!

So, there I was, stuck downstairs, and somehow had to get seven bags of food up to the flat! I really did knacker myself.

  • I had to carry some bags individually into the lift foyer.
  • Go back and collect the others, take them through.
  • Return back and get the trolley with the two light bags on it, and get them to the lift foyer
  • Then, when the lift arrived, I had to manage it so that the door didn’t shut on me, get the six loose bags into the cage, then the trolley and box!
  • As I got to the twelfth floor, a chap was not pleased that he couldn’t get in the elevator. I have been sneered at a few times, but this man was an Ace at it! I felt awful!
  • Got the bags, trolley and box out onto the lobby floor… To make things worse, the lift door shut on the man… I could fell the virtual arrows coming my way!
  • Next, I had to move the bags and trolley to the loft lobby door, get the loose bags through, then the trolley and me inside. Carry them down to the front door; I was struggling by now and feeling a little strained and drained!
  • At got the bags and trolley inside and had to stop. I just stood there fighting for me to breathe for a couple of minutes.
  • Then I took the bags through to the kitchen, put them on the floor, and needed another minute or two to properly collect myself.
  • Collated the bags and got them sorted out… slowly, very slowly!
  • They had sent that horrible seedy bread, not the white sourdough I was looking forward to having tonight. Crap!
  • The ice-cream had partly melted!
  • The tomatoes were squashed!
  • The swiss roll mini-cakes were mangled entirely!
  • The fridge looked a little bare, to say all the stuff I’d just put in it?
  • I think I must have been having a funny-moment, that wasn’t funny!
  • One of the tubs of Custard & jelly was broken, plastic split!
  • But was I bothered? Did I mind? Yes, I bleeding did! I felt right, cheated and mistreated!

Luckily it didn’t bother me too much (Lying Swine!)

Back on the computer, still short of breath and coughing something rotten again! The worst thing about the whole farcical delivery was that it had destroyed the unaccountable lightheartedness that I’d been enjoyed for a day and a half! Now, Depression Dennis was taking a hold on me.

I sourly updated this diary with the above details, then the sneezing started? What’s going on here?

I tried to remember the things I had not done earlier and conducted my scribbled notes. I tried the crap, overcharging, shitty, unreliable Microsoft Office programs again.

What a pratt, I actually thought it would open and work! Not the way my luck has changed in the last two hours or so! So, no updating the medical figures, then! I’m getting low now!

Ah, I remember, it’s TFZer Shirley’s birthday. I’ll make a graphic and put it on Facebook.

I feel a little better now for remembering. ♥

I risked making myself feel more depressed by looking at the local Emagazine for anything worth promoting. Apart from local yobbo drug gangs letting off fireworks each time they get a new supply to let their pissant users know, the possibility of Nottinghamshire Covid-19 Vaccination centres might have to close, due to supply issues, there was not a lot worth reading about. Mind you, the Covid-19 new cases were well down over the last seven days. So, not all doom and gloom… even if I am currently in a ‘Doom & Gloom’ attack.

I decided to try the crap malted seasoned bread. It might be okay. I made up a cold meal, imitation Dagwood sarnies, pork & stuffing meat, and tomatoes. Chip sticks, roast onions and some sugar snap peas and got settled early to dine. Tray on my knee, feet up om the swivel chair, and tucked into the nosh!

The malted grain-seeded bread was worse than I’d hoped it would be, tastewise. But with plenty of pork, stuffing and butter on it, it worked out to be enough to mask the bread a bit. I gave it a Taste-Rating of 6/10.

Washed the pots, and settled down to watch some TV, Auf Wiedersehen Pet and Rosemary & Thyme, 2 episodes of each following each other. Of course, I missed most them, thanks to the kind for once Sweet Morpheous allowing me to nod off into a dream interrupted but much-needed sleep! Ah, nice!

Indagating Inchy – Wednesday 3rd March 2021 Diary

♥ The TFZer Chef of the Year! ♥


Wednesday 3rd March 2021

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 3ydd Mawrth 2021

  00:05hrs: I semi-woke up, returning to mock-life, and amidst all the confusion milling about in my brain, I found so many things to fret over, worry about, and ignore; for a few pointless, unfathomable, befuddling, minutes. Slowly I worked out what day it was and became aware of the warm wet sensation from within the PP’s. I hoped it was PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble) or CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) instead of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding. (Which it was! Phew!)

I tackled the Herculean quotidian job of hauling my overly-bellied torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety-recliner, and rose to catch my balance. (There wasn’t a lot of equilibrium available, but I managed, with a high degree of effort, to achieve this).

I took the missed evening medications and did the Health Checks. The SYS was down a smidge at 149, DIA at 72, and the PULSE at 88bpm. Which overall, it was a better set of figures this morning.

The made in Hong Kong, Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer temperature reading is well in the danger area red, at 37.9°c – which Mr Google told me was 100.22°f. High, but not critical. Phew!

The summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived via the innards, and off I trotted, well, limped, to the wet-room. For the first time in a while, Cartilage Cathy was giving me some aggravation, stingingly so, which did not help my balance at all. In fact, when I plumped down hastily on the raised WC seat, I caught and started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding again!

However, the expected runny, watery evacuation didn’t happen. Instead, it seemed that Constipation Konrad was in charge over Trotsky Terence, this time, very fuliginous, to go from one extreme to another like this. The crossword puzzle was utilised as I sat there, knowing things were brewing ready to escape, yet spent a good five-minutes puzzling before the action started. Not that I solved any clues at all. Tsk!

Far less messy, but more effort needed to encourage the motion along. No bleeding from the rear end! Easier to clean things up. Although the refilling of the water tank and several flushes were needed.

Then after washing the affected areas, the dodgy bit had to be done! Stopping the fungal lesion bleeding. Nover an easy job, but with not having to use it for so long, the Dakacort cortisone cream application proved more messy and painful this time. Not 100% successful either. But, pain-wise, Cathy Cartilage’s knee was a lot worse to medicate. If I don’t rub in the gel enough, the pain relief is not up to the job. So, I had no choice other than to keep applying it and massaging the knee with a degree of pressure that didn’t go down well with Cathy at all! I’ll take an extra Codeine Phosphate with the morning medications, maybe some Paracetamol as well. Walking and keeping my balance is not easy when this happens, but I mustn’t moan. Plenty of folks a lot worse off than I am.

I got the computer going and concentrated on updating the Tuesday Diary. Cartilage Cathy was no bother as long as I was sat on the swivel chair – but when I had to get up for wee-wees or make a brew, Wow! I think this will affect my balance when I have to go out with the rubbish later.

I eventually, quite quickly actually, got the updating sorted out. Thanks mainly to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters being in a good mood with me, Yee-Ha! Most appreciated! Hope he keeps it up!

Sent off the blog. Emailed the link, went on WordPress comments, then on the WP Reader Section. Finally, I got to updating the Facebook pages.

I made a start on this page, and I had to go to the wet room for a painful wee-wee. Although, a reluctant one. A stressful evacuation… no, that’s not the word. Harrowing is a better one to use. Little specs of blood in the bowl, and the NHS Urologist’s colour code card, showed that I’d gone back to a ‘Very Dehydrated’ No.6 level. Humph!

Leaving the room, I came as close as I’ve ever been to walking into the door frame as I have ever been without clouting it, as Cathy Cartilage gave way. Things seem to be getting back to normal for me, then? Hehehe! I remembered to take the A.M. medications.

I remembered to put the Kodak camera on battery on charge. I was using the old Canon charger, thanks to Amazon sending an American two-pin charger that wouldn’t work anyway. Still, it started charging without any bother.

I returned to the wet room to tend to the ablutionalistical duties. They have not gone so well in months! Brilliant! Astoundamigating! Wunderbar! Up until the getting dressed, that is!

The nasal-clearing went well. The teeth cleaning fine! And even the shaving impressed me! Only two dropsies and no, I say, NO cuts or nicks!

The showering was again a good one! A few dropsies fair enough! No bangs or dizzy’s whatsoever!

The drying off was problem-free, too! See Inchcy there? The red-faced showerer! Hehe!

Now we come to the medicationalisationing. Not perfect, nor lethal. Hehehe! Harold’s Haemorrhoids ointment applicating was a smidge painful.

And the dang Daktacorting on Little Inchies fungal lesion brought forth a few curse words, twinges and Ooh, Ah’s and Argh’s!

The last operation, getting dressed, involved:

  • Me ripping the new PP’s as I pulled them up! Luckily I have a decent stock in hand now.
  • The other balsa… no, Bambppp long socks didn’t seem as long as the first pair did yesterday?
  • When getting the trousers on, Cartilage Cathy wobbled me, and down I went on my knees!
  • Still, I got back up, bruised, but easily enough!
  • All in all, a fair session!

I may sell the wonderful looking photo of my legs in the Bamboo hosiery to the Tate Gallery? Hehehe!

I got on with the handwashing. The long Bamboo socks, a pair of short ones, the crap cold Amazon so called  ‘Lounge pants’, and the well-made in Myanmar (Burma) are far too small and thin, grey zip-up jacket with pockets.

The door chimes rang out, and I went to investigate. There was the young engineer, who I’d arranged to come today, to fireproof the old airing cupboard.

Of course, I’d forgotten all about him coming. It’s easy to blame senility – but I will do it anyway!

He didn’t mess about, and soon he had everything out of the cupboard and on the floor in the kitchen for me to fall over.

Nice natured lad, we had a chinwag at times and a laugh.

I nipped out with the waste bags to the waste-room chute, and I disposed of them down the tube.

Made my way back to the apartment and took part in a little natter with the lad doing the work.

Oh, dearie me! Another letter informing me of the costs of living increases! The rent, Service-Charges and Support-Charges! So, what’s that in this week gone? The bank reduced my interest rates! HMG increased my personal tax rate! I’m sure there have more than these demands. Time for the claw-back for the Convid-19 costs? I’d have thought with them giving me the Asta-Zeneca poison vaccine and making me so ill, they might have gone easier on me, you know? But, no! Inchcock to the slaughter!

While stewing away and feeling sorry for myself, the young man working in the kitchen. And I realised that I’d forgot to remember to take a photo of the removal of the Porta Kabins on Chestnut Walk. So, here’s the best I could manage, the top one form last week and the bottom one this morning at approx: 10:00hrs.

Fancy that, me not remembering something, it doesn’t happen a rule. Ahem! I’m kidding, of course, when it’s news, it is the odd time that I do dredge-up some loose connection with something, and what I was going to do, or wanted to do, comes flooding back to me!

Shortly, the young worker lad had got the cupboard fireproofing work finished. He’d put a shelf up for in, bless him.

I told him to help himself from the bag of treats, thanked him, and he said he would try to call back on Friday to give me a hand getting the stuff back into the cupboard. Especially as he had put a shelf in there for me to use, bless his cotton socks. Most appreciated. Of he trotted, and I had a look at the kitchen to see what needed sorting out – I had no intentions of doing anything, mind. For I had no templates left to use and need to get at least three done, or I’ll get so far behind, doing the blog will become too much for me. I just winced when I saw the state of the place! So I got back on the computer to update this blog as far as to here, and I had to begin making some CorelDraw graphics for the templates. Getting late now, if I don’t do it, with it being midday, the weariness is about to dawn. I’ve been up for twelve hours now. I’m afraid I wasn’t up to concentrate, so I got something made up to eat.

I used the last of cooked pork, chicken tikka on sticks, garden peas and tomatoes. I lathered plenty of butter on the Sourdough bread, added the last pot pf the horrible Iceland raspberry trifle, and got down to eat it. The flavour-rating given was only 5/10, but the sourdough bread was tasty enough.

Missed most of it! Grumph!

I washed the pots and got down again, wondering if Sweet Morpheus would be kinder to me tonight? It was all tiny-nod-offs and waking repetitions. Of the two half-hour episode of Tales of the Unexpected, I might have been awake for the ten-minutes worth. Then, of course, I thought this is it, sleep commeth now… Did it Thunderbogworthy!

Well, yes, it did in a way, but in spells of a few minutes, then I’d wake up, simmer and stew a while, drop of again for a few minutes… Not very good at all!

In the end, I gave up about 23:40hrs, got up for a wee-wee, and then started doing some much-needed graphics.

Windy-Inchcy Tuesday 2nd March 2021 Diary

♥ TFZers In Their Cottage! ♥


Tuesday 2nd March 2021

Spanish: Martes 2 de marzo de 2021

01:05hrs: As I stirred, and recognised the need to visit the Porcelain Throne with some haste, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked of with one of her more virulent attacks. Thus getting my generously-sized over-stomached torso from the second-hand, c1968, recliner without injury, was no easy task. However, I did adopt a Smug-Mode on getting up and catching my balance, then made for the wet room.  After knocking the bottle of spring water off of the ottoman.

It was an even messier session this morning. But at least it felt like Trotsky Terence might be losing his totalitarian grip on the innards. I say this because there were no immediate escapages as I sat down, things took a while to progress, gurglingly building up, or down, to the rear escape hatch. I even had a go at the crossword puzzles! And, (Smug-Mode-Engaged), I got the last two clues on one of the puzzles! I think I’ll upgrade that to Smug-Mode-Grade-Two-level! However, the evacuated product was super-gluey and gooey!

Cleaning myself and the pottery, and refilling several times of the water tank to free things up, took a ridiculous amount of time!

I had a wash-up, and I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, in the slightly larger China mug that Jenny had donated to me. At long last, a mug of tea actually began to taste like it used to before the first suicidal-seeking, ill-making, side-effect-ridden, AstraZeneca vaccine was given me, nine-days ago! Finally! It was a nice, different feeling!

I ventured out into the balcony, sillily not being aware of how cold it was out there, I opened one window to take an ahead shot of the view. Then the end window to get a photograph to the left-hand side of Sherwood. Brrr!

I got the Health Checks tackled. Starting with the made in Hong Kong, reliable contactless thermometer. Which proffered up a reading of 36.8°c – 98.24°f. The temperature has not been this low since last Thursday. 👍

The SYS was up a couple of points, but it’s been a lot worse. And the PULSE was down to 87 from 94, so all in all, taking everything into account, overall, the Health Check’s results were doing betterer today! All part of the Inchcock feeling betterer mode, methinks.

I put some fresh potatoes left-over, into the crock-pot, and added an Oxo Vegetable seasoning cube, and got it on a low setting, so there would be no chance (He says!) of any overspilling and making another mess for me to clean-up. Then, I got the computer on to start the updating of yesterdays blog.

Apart from SSS, the other ailments were not too bad this morning. And, I was getting my taste-buds to work again! Not to mention having had no bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion for days now! I think a trace of contentment, even satisfaction was creeping into my life! A strange, unaccustomed, experience for me! Will I be able to cope with it, without losing my grip? I’d got the new thermal woolly hat on to keep warm! The toothache was bad at all! Life seems so unnatural, anomalous, frighteningly different today? Could this be a belated AstraZeneca vaccine effect? Most likely it’s joy at ridding myself of them?

The dang World-Wide-Hum was getting louder again. And Duodenal Donald was stabbing at me a little… with the odd bit of back-up and support from Anne Gyna… but these things are normal, and help me cope with any good luck or health that might possibly wangle their way into my life.

Ah, this is more like my fortunes; The Liberty-Global Virgin Internet Media just went down again! Thank you, Mike Fries. But you could and have done much better, as you have in the past – this outage only lasted a couple of minutes, and came back online of its own accord. I hope you are not poorly?

I pressed on and got the Monday blog all finished, and sent it off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and read and replied to some email comments.

Made a brew of Glengettie Gold. Had a horrendously leaky wee-wee, and washed then cleaned and sanitised the grey bucket. Visited the WP Reader Section, some great posts on there today. Then went on Facebooking catch-up.

Next, I visited the AstraZeneca site.

Astra Zeneca Vaccine: Possible side effects:

I made the effects I’d had in red!

Like all medicines, this vaccine can cause side effects, although not everybody gets them. In clinical studies with the vaccine, most side effects were mild to moderate in nature and resolved within a few days with some still present a week after vaccination.

If side effects such as pain and/or fever are troublesome, medicines containing paracetamol can be taken. Side effects that occurred during clinical trials with COVID-19 Vaccine AstraZeneca were as follows:

Very Common (may affect more than 5 in 10 people):
Tenderness, pain, warmth, itching, bruising where the injection is given
generally feeling unwell
feeling tired (fatigue)
chills or feeling feverish
headache
feeling sick (nausea)
joint pain or muscle ache

Common (may affect up to 2 in 10 people):
swelling, redness or a lump at the injection site
fever
being sick (vomiting)
diarrhoea
flu-like symptoms, such as high temperature, sore throat, runny nose, cough and chills

Uncommon (may affect up to 1 in 100 people):
feeling dizzy
decreased appetite
abdominal pain
enlarged lymph nodes (Don’t what this is?)
excessive sweating, itchy skin or rash.

I still fear what the second booster vaccine will bring for me!

Time to get the ablutions tackled, just in case the Iceland order arrives early! It has been known, you know. It was last October if I remember correctly.

As usual, I got side-tracked and ended up sorting the handwashing out first. Then, off to the wet-room.

I noticed some blotches as I was taking off the wristwear.

Teeth-cleaning was a little more painful this morning, the cracked molars are beginning to disintegrate now. Four dropsies.

The nasal clearing went well, no dropsies. But the highlight was the shaving session, Oh, Yes! Not a single cut or nick! Only, three dropsies! The stand-up wash had a few more dropsies, mind, but otherwise went smoothly! Smug-Mode-Grade-2-readopted!

Dressed and freshened up, I returned to the computer. While I was in the wet room an email from Iceland had arrived, regarding Changes to my Order!

Does this list on the right, make full sense to you? Or is it me, getting confused?

The intercom rang out, and I admitted the Iceland delivery gentleman. Same man as called last week, a decent sort of chap. As I went to open the door, there were three letters delivered. I don’t like getting letters, especially official-looking ones like these were! I’ll have decker at them later.

The young man placed the bags in the doorway for me. Including the box of Surf with tropical lily and ylang-ylang, 130 wash size. I think I made a blunder in ordering this size. Hehehe!

I moved the delivery into the kitchen and made a start in storing the stuff away. As you can see, I got rather a lot of stuff today.

I’d half-expected Iceland to be out of the Milk Roll bread, so I’d ordered some wholemeal cobs and bread thins as well. A packet of boil-in-the-bag kipper with butter, that I plan to make this evenings meal of. Some egg mayonnaise, miniature pork & pickle pies, stocked up with the OXO seasonings, beef and vegetable. A bag of Wilkinson’s twin razors, that I hope will not be as lethal as the Bic brand ones were. Some cheapo trifles. Frozen Strawberry & Vanilla cones, and /sour ice-lollies as a further treat! Two cans of Batchelor’s potatoes. Iceland chilli-chicken fillets, chicken with stuffing slices. Lemon whirls, washing-up liquid and two bottles of white bleach. Some cans as treats. Two bottles of spring water, and some cheapo kitchen rolls.

By gum, I live well!

But getting room made in the freezer was as hard as ever, but I got them all in. Squashed a few cones doing it mind, Hehe!

Then, getting everything in the fridge was tackled. Not an easy job, so many dropsies and damaged good in the process.

I seem to have a lot of butter in stock. I’d also ordered some ‘I can’t believe its not butter?’ Obviously for a specific reason, but I’m blown if I can remember why! Tsk!

I may have to eat the kippers later on though; because a lot of the cooked meats have short ‘Use-By-Dates’ on them.

After I shut the door, the fridge started making rather-loud running noises?

I got the household items stored away… under the sink is looking cramped for space as well now.

And the Porcelain Throne is getting less visible too, surrounded by multiple various types of cleaning products. Ah, well!

I’ll not starve! I might eat too much, on the other hand. Haha!

All put away, I set about investigating the three letters! It seems I will be paying more tax after 5th April? Claw back-time after Covid?

The bank – We are reducing the interest rate on your savings account! Claw back-time after Covid? Not that this bothers at all, I’ve only got, as you can see, just over £1 in the account! La,la,la, la, la, la!

The final letter was from the Haemostasis DVT Thrombosis Service Anticoagulation, Warfarin Clinic.

A load of waffle really. Saying how they are doing their best, and giving numbers to ring if we need help.

Ah, well! I’ll check on the potatoes progress. All ready for serving up. But the early weariness arrived at the same time, a shame that!

I served my nosh up, on Josie’s p[late and tray. Pork misshapes, tomatoes, red onions, crispy bacon, egg mayonnaise, and the last of the small potatoes, which were the highlight of the plate. Flavour-Rating: 705/10!

I went into a vagueness-mode when I got settled to eat this nosh. I remembered the two, half-hour Tales of the unexpected were coming on channel 11 on the TV. I even stayed awake long enough to catch the start of the first episode.

After waking up half-an-hour later as the second one was showing, the need for the Porcelain Throne prevented my viewing it. Tsk! Off to the wet room, I trudged…

Crackling-Crackers! Did I crack the shoulder on the wet room door on the way in… Yes! It hurt a smidge. Hehe! The evacuation was far less messy, but the brown and red colouring was the same. I think the Diarrhoea capsules might be winning the battle at last. I’ll see how it goes in the morning, before taking another one yet.

Back to the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, just in time to miss the Tales of the unexpected episode altogether. Gragnangles!

Yet again sleep was slow in arriving, the constant waking-ups didn’t help.

Indwelt-Inchy – Monday 1st March 2021 Diary

What are these two TFZers up to?


INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 1st March 2021

Croatian: Ponedjeljak 1 Ožujka 2021

00:45hrs: Woke requiring a wee-wee. Which has been something of a rarity this week. So, I delayed not and hauled my overly-stomached torso from the warmth and discomfort of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and hobbled over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).

What a struggle that was! A weak, trickling affair that caught me out with both PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble). A check on the NHS Urologist chart proved that the wee was in the number 6 status! Very Dehydrated? I thought I’d been keeping up with the spring-water guzzling too? I’d better make sure today that I take a lot of it in.

I went to make a brew of Glengettie to get me started drinking. Made a decent looking mugful and added the milk… but the milk had curdled a smidge. That was the Sainsbury’s Jersey full cream one too! Hey, ho! I opened a bottle of Cravendale full-milk and made another brew. I took the missed evening medications. Tsk!

As I was stirring it up well, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Oh, dearie me! All the signs were that it was going be another Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation. And it was, but with a difference!

I hastened to the wet room and settled quickly on the seat (Not wanting the embarrassment like yesterday of any early escapages). To my astonishment, there was no movement at all; well, the gurgling was there in the innards. I got the crossword book out and began to use it… but only for a few seconds. The action started, as anticipated; it was a victory again for Trotsky Terence. Stinky-phoo, mostly liquids followed by a generous dollop of the gooey, sticky mass of faecal matter. I’ve never had such a chaotic, squishy evacuation as this one was!

Thank heavens I’d got the fresh TP rolls out ready after the nearly as onerous evacuation yesterday. Cleaning up took me a least ten-minutes, if not more. Then, the problem of getting the product to go away! I lost count of the times I had to refill the water tank. And I destroyed the wooden stick with so much prodding and poking of the congealed mass to encourage its eventual removal from the bowl! I felt exhausted after I’d finished! 

I decided to take the morning medications with another Acute Diahorrea Relief Capsule. I hope this one might work.

The usually dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer failed to work the first time again. But it did show that the SYS had tumbled from yesterdays high of 180 down to 149. The DIA was 80. and the PULSE a little high as 94bpm.

The made in Hong Kong Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer gave me a surprise. The body temperature had shot back up again? 37.5°c – 99.5°f, a bit over the top that was? Of course, I can’t get to talk to the Doctor about these readings, neither on the email or landline phone!

Lots of ambers and reds on the Excel record sheet now! 

As I was starting the Sunday’s updating (I hate Sunday’s 👎), it dawned on me that I could hear the World Wide Hum! I could listen to the noise from above of the motor running? Jenny can hear that down on the 9th floor as well.

I got the updating finished and posted the diary to WordPress. Emailed the link. Pinterested a snap or two, then I went on Facebook catching-up. After which, I read and replied to some comments on WP. Next, I visited the WordPress Reader section.

Getting tired now. I went to make a brew, and I found that the morning had turned foggy, to put it mildly. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

Nearly time to get the ablutions sorted out. I was getting the watch and bands off of my wrists. I noticed the Warfarin alert band had been strangulating the arm. So that was what the itching was earlier, Hahaha!

I’d wondered, like.

I foolishly opted to divert and get some handwashing done before going to the ablutionary duties. I think it safe to say I got carried away somewhat with it this morning. I started off, doing the grey that should have been brown, Indian made, thin, cold, too long flimsy lounge pants, and a made in Pakistan Maroon zip-up jacket.

Got then done, wrung, rinsed and hung. The gear should be dry enough to wear by around mid-November or so. But I’d not finished yet, oh, no, when I go off on a tangential wandering, I do tend to get a smidge hypnotised with things.

Out came the mucked-up blue Pakistan Maroon zip-up jacket. And to long-sleeved t-shirts to get the Inchcock handwashing treatment as well. I must admit, this operation caused me more pain then the Porcelain Throne and wee-weeing put together earlier in the now freezing day. Colin Cramps kicked off, and I just knew that shaving was going to give me more agony later on. (Unfortunately, this was so!) EQ knew!

I got in the wet room and did the de-nasalising first, which went smoothly for once. The teeth cleaning left me with a little discomfort for some reason? I used the twin-bladed Bic razors for the first time. Which, with afterthoughts, may not have been such a good idea after all.

With the feet being hidden by the socks yesterday, I was surprised at my plates’ state. Both old ulcer scars seemed to be trying to make a comeback. And the tibial and spider veins were getting more prominent for the first time in months. Mind you, they were still more artistic than the idiot Andres’s pile of bricks at the Tate gallery looked!

The showering was an easy, almost accident-free session, to start with, anyway. There were no Dizzy Dennis visits and no banging or knocking into anything either, and Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me any right leg dances! Plenty of harmless dropsies suffered throughout the shaving and showering. I think I ought to have been given a medal, or a mention in despatches, for my heroism in using the… wait for it – Sock Glide! Smug-Mode-Adopted! Especially with my putting on the new extra-long f diabetic socks for the first time! I put these on partly due to the Weather forecast on Radio Nottingham for tonight -3°c, 26.6°f. The too-small Morrisons PPs were worn as well. They are not very good protection but do keep one warm, at least. As with the long mesh bamboo hosiery. Not cheap, but just worth the investment. I also noted the signs of water retention in this photo wot I took after the session.

I’m afraid I flaked-out after that. There was no sleep, just a horrible awakeness and frustration at not nodding off, despite the weariness I felt.

The door chimes rang, Josie was returning the things from her Sunday lunch. She liked the cheesy potatoes.

I settled again and just sort of hovered between wakefulness and sleep-mode – not actually attaining any nod offs, though. Eventually, hunger arrived, and I got a nosh prepared. A disappointing result, the peas and leeks were okay, mind. Taste-Rating: 2½/10!

The day-dreamings went on and on, but would sleep arrived? No! Sweet Morpheus denied me even a little shut-eye. After a horrible night, sort of dreaming but being awake, the need for the Porcelain Throne needs, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) stirred me into action. Of a sort!

Ill Inchcy – Sunday 28th February 2021 Diary

TFZer to the rescue!


INCHCOCK TODAY

Sunday 28th February 2021

Latin: MMXXI die 28 Mensis Februarii

01:40hrs: I stirred into imitation life, realised that I was not coughing or bringing up anywhere near so much phlegm. And it felt good, indeed, at last, the symptoms from the lethal to me Convid-19 AstraZeneca vaccine was weakening, after a full week! I spent a few moments fearing the second one coming up…

The innards bubbled, I adopted the Porcelain Throne – Defcon Two-Mode. And I fumbled my way out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, caught my balance of sorts and hastened to the wet room.

No sooner was I seated, and with Trotsky Terence in complete control, the vagariously doloriferous evacuation began. The discomfort and pain were soon over, but it was an Oh, so messy affair! The regular black and dark red mini-torpedoes funked like never before! 50% liquid! Bits of blood could be seen as I rose to assess the results of the dump.

The entire toilet roll plus was needed to clear things at the rear end! Gallons of water was used from the sink to remove the gooey pipework, funking, multi-coloured evacuated product! Many flushes later, things seemed to have been cleared.

The reliable, made in Hong Kong, the contactless thermometer showed a lower reading this morning, of 37.0°c-98.6°f. But this was still a smidge high, methinks?

The usually dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer failed on the first two tries to come up with a reading.

On the third attempt, it worked, but the SYS was high at 180, DIA at 75, and the PULSE was 89bpm.

I updated the Excel file with the new figures.

Then took the missed evening medications and making up the moring one to leave in view so that I didn’t forget that one later, as well. Humph!

I made a start on updating the Saturday Diary. SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and PP, Peripheral Pete, were giving me their ackamarackus tricks, which slowed me down with my progress.

As I was going to make a brew of Glengettie, the rumbling innards kicked-off again – which worked out well as it happens.  I was only feet away from the wet room door at the time and was soon in and sat on the raised plastic seat…

Oh, dearie me! This session was worse than the first one and more Accifauxpa-ridden, too!

  • The content was just the same style, but there seemed a lot more of it!
  • Not so much blood escaped.
  • I had to restock with toilet rolls and kitchen towels. Ultra-messy, and so much of it, gooey, gelatinous, gunky and semi-liquid at the same time!
  • Foul-smelling, evil-mephitic and noxious!
  • The clearing of the evacuated product took far longer this time. Several refillings of the tank, and many flushes, eventually did the trick!
  • Then, when I thought everything had been cleaned and freshened, I spotted a clump that had, I assumed, ejected itself as I position myself on the seat.

Embarrassment, shame, disgust and the futility of my hopes all lingered for a moment or two, teasing, humiliating me. I got things cleaned up.

Then I returned to the kitchen.

I took this photographicalisation through the kitchen window, it didn’t come out well, did it? Humph!

I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested, a couple of yesterday’s pictures, then went on Facebook catch-up.

I made another brew. Then read and replied to some comments. Had a read of the Health Unlocked Peripheral Neuropathy site letters. And made a start on this post.

Well, time to get the ablutions sorted out, then. Off to the wet room, I trotted.

Well, just look at those legs, will you? Spider and iliac veins hardly noticeable! Clopidogrel almost gone! And the weals, lumps, myasthenia gravis, with no signs of any Idiopathic Polyneuropathy.  Admittedly the socks cover the ankle ulcer, but it was very faint.

I wonder if the Tate Gallery might be interested in buying a picture of my amazingly improving legs and knees? My pins photo would cost a lot less to the idiots who run the Tate Gallery, and if I may say so, are more artistic than Mr Andre’s ‘Pile of Bricks!’

Arthur Payne, Gallery Assistant, quoted in the Evening Standard, n.f.d. 1976: “These bricks have really brought the public in. They can’t make head or tail of them. Nothing has attracted as much attention as they have!”

Inchcock response: “It’s a shame something that is nothing to do with art should be bought by the desperate for fame, fools at the Tate Gallery!”

Of course, it doesn’t bother me! Oh, no!

Ablutions all done, I set to getting the walker-guide box filled with waste-bags and got them ready to rake to the waste chute.

I found another letter had arrived.

Worryingly it was from British Gas, an assured sign of price rises or confusing changes of tariffs! Sure enough, on opening the lying, two-faced, cheating, conning, unreliable, ignorant, mercantile, profit-seeking, undependable, unpredictable, untrustworthy, capricious, expensive, over-charging, anti-customer orientated, costly, compassionless, and pachydermatous British Gas envelope; I found an increase in payments! But it didn’t bother me!

I spat a little, cursed, sent a death wish through the ether, to Centrica boss-man, (who own British Gas,) Ian Conn, and the four bosses who raked in £2m bonuses as the customers were hit; with price-hikes! But it didn’t bother me! The profit-oriented gits are not going to get to me! Although, if I hear of any of them being cast-down and snuffing it excruciatingly painfully from Covid-19, it may cheer me up a little and bring a warm smile to my face.

I got out and into the lift lobby, with the rather well-filled box of waste-bags on the Trolley-guide and down to the tiny rubbish-chute at the far end.

I got in alright and even put the bags into the chute without any knocks or injuries down the tube. Getting back out was not so easily managed. There is not enough room to turn the walker-Guide around in the waste-room, so a spot of reversing is needed. I caught the trousers in the wheels coming out. Later I found a tear in the cloth and a spec of bleeding. It made me think of British Gas! I felt sick!

Out along the lift lobby in the opposite direction. The only art-deco end wall, I’ve not seen this on any other floor, seemed more attractive to me again. (Especially so with the bile being encouraged by British Gas!) I wonder if any other floors have this art-deco paint job on their wall?

I got back to the apartment, and I set about getting Josie’s nosh cooked and prepped. I was extra careful in the presentation of the extra cheesy, buttered and sea salted potatoes. They tasted good when I tried some; I hope Josie enjoys them. The strain-free tuna, mini-tomatoes, Surami sticks, roast onions, and today for a change, fresh garden peas and leeks added. A disc of the cheese she likes was left unopen, in case she fancied it later on. A can of Sainsbury’s Rum and coke added. I delivered it just before midday. I could her Josie talking to her sister on the phone as I rang the bells. Handed her the tray and explained about the peas and leeks and new drink. Again she asked why I buy the drink when I don’t drink it; also, I told her, ‘So you can drink it!’ today. She can’t understand it.

I washed the cooking utensils from her meal making, and I had a look to see if I could get in a slot with Iceland. I got one alright for next Tuesday. I hope they have the bread available this week.

I made just one more graphic on CorelDraw and made up my meal of the day. Potatoes with the rest of the garden peas and leeks, a few crispy onions, tomatoes and some horrible tasting cooked turkey pieces. But I did eat it all. The early weariness dawned.

I got the pots washed again and became rather insipid, and the tiredness came on rather quickly for some reason. I think I put the TV on and turned it off after a few minutes to search for Sweet Morpheus. But sadly, success was denied to me!

It was many hours before I nodded off. Yet I felt so weary and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t already snoring away? I do remember the door chimes going – that would have been Josie returning the food tray, I assume. But I just could not get up. The gal knows that if I am in, the door is never locked; she can open the door and place the tray and cutlery though the door. But the poor thing has a memory about as good as mine is, Hahaha!

Frustration was growing the longer I went without nodding off. It was as if something was determined that I would not get to sleep?

I lay there, started to plan the World Economic recovery from Covid, worked out that aliens would be seen openly next August 28th, and realised I had not had a wee for many, many hours.

Finally, I must have nodded-off, cause I woke up, in need of a wee-wee…

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