Monday 18th May 2020
Filipino: Lunes Ika-18 ng Mayo 2020
03:00hrs: I stirred into semi-life, with a lightness not felt for a long time.
Which died off, as soon as I moved the legs (Arthur Itis), got to stand up (the crippling pains from the uncut toes and feet), and the instant I made a move towards the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), Anne Gyna joined in with the other, ‘Let’s Have a bash at Inchcock’ ailments. Even stood still, the feet and toes hurt, and Anne Gyna was steadily giving me more increasingly bothersome stabbing pains. Not a good start to the day!
But it got worse, so not to worry. Which turned out to be a totally different model to all of yesterdays leaks. It was a niggly WSSULL (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Long-Lasting) style. Which kept me stood at the bucket, for far too long for the feet and toes, which started to give me even more discomfort. Humph! Silver Lining Search Results: Duodenal Donald was nice and calm. I could not see any bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion during the wee-wee.
I limped to the wet room, taking the bucket with me for emptying and sanitising. No sooner in the room, and the Porcelain Throne requirements arose. I took a photo of the poor-legs and feet. Still showing great etiolation, and pallidity. I felt as if they should be aflame, smoking! Such was the physical anguish they were giving me. Maybe when I’ve taken the painkillers with the mug of tea, things will calm down a bit. I hope!
And what a change in the evacuation department this morningtide! There appears to be a battle going on for control, between Constipation Konrad (Easily the winner over the last few days), and Trotsky Terence, who is launching a counter-attack with this one! Quick, not so painful, but, oh how messy and pongy! Also needing much more cleansing and cleaning was required after the affair was completed.
I got the sorting-out done, then sterilised the EOGPB. Washed and next, got myself (oh it was a struggle) to the kitchen. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, but Anne Gyna steadied a lot. Swings & Roundabouts, you know!
Took the medications, and made a brew. Then to the computer, where much work awaited me. With the Morrison order coming twixt six>seven o’clock, I worked as fast as I could manage, to give myself time to get the Ablutions done, before the arrival of the fodder.
I got an email from Morrison’s arrive. They have made some substitutions. Instead of Sweet potato battered fritters (one of my favourites), they sent McCain shake, shake sea and salt fries? Which will be no good for me, The freezer will accept no more frozen food. Also, I was well pleased to see when I put the order in, that they had some orange concentrated liquid wash in stock, and ordered one. It wasn’t really needed, but the chance to get my favourite orange-scented one was too good to miss for me. Well, I missed it! They sent Lychee & Passionfruit as a substitute. Eurgh! Gits! The worst thing for me was the frozen McCain substituted, which wasn’t even battered, or sweet potato that I had ordered! Gits!
I tended to the ablutions with a bit of haste. A stand-up job, no time to get a shower now. The pins were still playing up. I’m not sure if it was the lighting in the wet room, or the legs had regained some colour, but my guess would be the lighting. A few dropsied, but no toe stubbing this time around. All sorted, freshened up, olive-oiled the ear-holes, Germolided and Germolened things in need, Saccades Sandra drops in the yes, Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees, clothes on and back to the computer.
I got the Sunday blog updated and sent off. Then went on Pinterest, WordPress Reader and TFZer Facebooking. During which, the landline burst into sound and flashed. It was the Morrison driver.
The intercom would not work for him. Hello, that’s Iceland on Saturday, and now Morrisons? No one has said they have had any problems… mind you, I haven’t seen anyone have I, apart from Josie, and she does not have food delivered.
I had to get up on my poor pins, to go down to let him in. We came back up with two of us in the left! A dodgy risk that!
Worra day I’m having! We got to the flat, and as he was dropping the stuff in the foyer of the apartment, I mentioned about the fritters substitute. He searched the bags and told me they were not frozen ones. Like dim-pathetic-clot, I said that they would be alright then. Humph! Not the product ordered, not sweet potato, not battered, and they need the seasoning shaking in, before cooking; and I agree to take them!
As gullible idiots go, I reckon I am the cream of the crop! I forgot all about the Lychee & Passionfruit scented cleaner crap! I even gave thanked the driver with a can of G&T. But, the substitutes, and intercom not working, was not his fault, so I hope he enjoys it.
The substituted fries looked a little complicated to cook.
I got the delivery into the kitchen a bag or two at a time, and slowly stored away. I’d forgotten I’d ordered the hot dog roll, but did manage to cram the bread thins into the freezer. It took me a good while.
I spread the cleaning stuff about, some in the wet room. Others in the junk-room 2, and 
others under the sink in the kitchen.
I opted, in my mind anyway, to have the hot dog sausages with the rolls, and try these crap looking McCains, what a name? Shake-shake Fries, sea salt & cracked black pepper, things with the links later for lunch. With some tomatoes, maybe. We’ll see.
As I was clearing away the mess, I realised just how tatty the kitchen floor looked. I thought it had to be cleaned now! So, I did. But first, I was so impressed again with the view, I took a snap or two of it.
Perhaps subconsciously, to delay the pain of doping the mopping, that I knew was coming? Tsk!
A few months ago, and this task would not have been considered a problem in the least. But now, it was a mammoth undertaking for this overweight, short, plump, pain bearing, lack of confidence-ridden, depressed, fed-up, bald, bespectacled, lonely, confused, memory-challenged, zeyde!
It had to be said! Hehe! By the time it was done, I felt tired, done-in, the ailments were giving me some hassle, and yet, I felt a bit of pride and self-satisfaction, well almost, in getting it done. Smug-Mode-Adopted through the pain! Hehehe!
I took some extra Codeine 30g and got on with creating this blog. The poor chimes rang out, and it was ages before I struggled to get to the door, the feet were terrible now, and all the bending doing the mopping up. Back Pain Brenda had joined in with the ailments attack. Hahaha!
This was not good, Saccades Sandra was so bad now, I had to give up on the computing altogether. Shirley kept on with the occasional shudderings, and Dizzy Dennis visited. My concentration has gone now. Bitterly disappointing, I wanted to get some more graphics done in advance. The mopping up I expect has caused the problems. But not necessarily, things are bad at this moment.
I’m going to try and get some nosh, really struggling to see for typing. I may be back later. Who knows? Tsk!
Got the fodder prepped and served up.Hot dogs with tomatoes, onions, gherkins, the odd, weird fries, a lemon mousse, and two apple pies, and a mug of orange juice. Flavour Rating 6/10, those substituted by Morrison’s fries were not very good. But everything else was!
Got the pots washed, took the evening meds, creams, potions and lotions applied to various locations on the grossly-over-stomached, spindly-legged body, and got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, inoperable, rusty, rickety, recliner. No longer working, after Zyrophobia suffering, supercilious Brother-in-law Pete, broke it when flat-searching, finding and taking my valuables, while I was the hospital after the stroke.
Dizzy Dennis joined me as I was making my mind up, whether to fall asleep trying to the Clint Eastwood in ‘The Dead Pool’ or ‘The Equaliser’ with Denzel Washington, two of my favourite movies, both showing at the same time – Humph! Not that it really mattered, there wasn’t a cat-in-hells chance my staying awake that late into the morning! Humph, again!
But I kept nodding off, swapping between the films, drifting off every time the adverts came on, waking up, nodding-off… What a pillock!
TTFNski, folks.
Nottingham’s Pensioner, with one or two ailments, and a mind and memory, he has little control of nowadays. Ah, well!
05:30hrs: Got up. Tired and weary still.
Greeted by even more mail that had been delivered, and demanded attention and replies to.
I fell head over heels in the kitchen, thanks to Neuropathy Nigel’s nerve ends failing in the leg this time! Took a while to sort my self out, shook up a bit. Made tea had a sit-down but still kept reading official letters, failing to fully understand them of course. Surprised with the instructions that I must stay indoors for twelve-weeks minimum from date of the letter. 
I spent many an hour going back to try and sort out the paperwork. But got nowhere with it. Other than to confuse my self even more. 
I tried a few times to make sense of, and understand all the bumf in the NHS letter, and the none recognition of my NHS number which is preventing me getting any food parcels, or going on the At Risk register. 
The nosh, was absolutely grand! These oddly named ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’, are tasty but not fatty at all. The braised beef in onion gravy, was enough to stop me bothering ordering any again, tiny and not tasty! The sugar snap peas, perfect! Tomatoes tasty! The cheeses were alright. The apple, mushy, dry and bland with a tough skin. The plain yoghourt was thin, but passable with maple syrup stirred into it. A 6/10 rating.
I made a brew, took the medications and had a look for the latest (Yesterdays only found, too early for today). 
Handwashing was done, rung and hung.
Whatta-a-farce! It suited this Klutz, come farceur Inchcock down to the ground, ideally! But at least the ablutions went differently than usual
Nothing changed. 
Just think; I’ve got this to go through again now, in the morning! Hoggledruidisations! 
I washed and medicated certain delicate areas after the visit to the Throne. 
I sorted the meal prepping. Got the lamb in the oven, they are thin slices so only need twenty minutes to cook. Checked the mushrooms were cooked and added them to the can of curried beans, with a splash of hickory. By then, the meal was ready to be served up. Smashing! Taste rating, 7/10. 
From approximately midnight, I had Thought Storms aplenty. Broken by a precious few nod-offs, they were only a few minutes long, the instant I jumped awake, it was as if I had been searching in my slumber, for worries, concerns, and fears, building them up for when I woke, and the soul-destroying Brain-Storming recommenced! 
As I gained some semi-balance and was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, and Dizzy Dennis had a go at me. (He’s not attacked me so ferociously for a while, but he made up for it this time!) I floundered and fortuitously fell back in the chair, via hitting my bum and piles on the way down against the arm. By ‘ecky-thump, I felt that! It took me a few minutes to gather myself, get over the shock, and then I tried (successfully) again to get up on my plates (feet). 
I had a quick check on the latest sad news from the virus.
The intercom rang forth, it was the Iceland delivery. It’ll or nothing innit? Haha!
Into the kitchen to do the washing up. I spotted two youths on the bottom field, a skateboarder and a cyclist, so my hackles-lifted. I’m not sure if they were rolling spliffs, cigarettes, or taking crack, but I took this decentish shot of them. When I viewed it on the camera, I realised the Saccades Sandra as playing and jumping about my focussing, shame! I used this shot as a background and made a Thoughts graphic in the morning. 
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? 
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation. But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe! 
seemed to be working okay. 
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow. 
at me as if I’m an idiot. 
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.
02:30hrs: I stirred into mock-life, and realised that just about everything attached to my wobbly-overweight stomach, was shaking to varying degrees. Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley was so bad, she was hitting my elbow on the recliner arm! Shaking Shaun had taken a fancy to the head and neck this morning. Worst perhaps, was Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failures were making it so difficult to sense anything hard, and getting up to respond to the urgent call to the Porcelain Throne was not easy! (The bonus, was, that there was no Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing from the right leg) 
After much faffling-about, I got on my feet, caught my balance, grabbed at the four-pronged walking stick, dropped it, bent down to pick it up and ‘Klunk’ down on my knees I went! Bearing in mind, the imperativeness of my getting to the Throne in time was increasing! Humph! I actually appreciated having the shakes from Nicodemus at the time, because there was hardly any pain at all when Arthur Itis’s patelas hit the floor! That usually come later, when the transmitter nerves start working again. Unnerving getting pains and you can’t see or remember why! 
The veins in the pins had started to protrude again. The varicose were not too bad, mind. The spider and 
While in there, I did the teggies and had a shave. And very pleased with how it went, considering that Shirley didn’t ever stop shaking, although she kept altering the rate of power. And I only had two tiny cuts after the session! Smug Mode Adopted! 
To the kitchen, and put some bits in a carrier, to give to Jenny when she comes. As a thank you for helping me out again. 
I dug out some chips from the bottom of the freezer. Got a pate and a few tomatoes left to have with them. 
The landline flashed, it was the Chemist, telling me the prescriptions would be at the door in a few minutes. I waited five or six minutes, not wanting to make social-contact with the lady, and carefully opened the door, making sure she had gone first and collected the pack from where she had left it for me. 
01:35hrs: By, Jiminee, was I shaking when I woke up? Yes, I was! Not shivering. Just like like Johnny Kidd & the Pirates in 1960, I was certainly, ♫ Shaking all over ♫. Not half! Only this was a version played by “Inchcock & the Ailments!” Hahaha! The only thing not shaking was the right leg. The knee yes, but that is part of the Peripheral Neuropathy and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying. And I dropped the walking stick when I picked it up, Nicodemus’s work again! Nowt to be done about that. Shaking Shoulder-Shirley was busily bashing away at the right scapula and joint. Shaker-Shaun was encouraging the head and neck to jolt about occasionally, too. 
Considering how I was rushing so as not to get caught out again at the Throne when I spotted the missing box of the Korean seaweed crispies, delivered last night. (They are still there now, I forgot all about them, being hidden behind the chairs, Tsk!) 
Getting the new PPs from the bag, a surge from Dizzy Dennis had me fall towards the wall, I ended up knocking some things off of the floor cabinets. Unfortunately, a glass bottle of the antacid medicine was one of the things that went over…and landed on the foot and toe that I stubbed yesterday! 
Of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest! 
I got the vegetables in the crockpot, seasoned, gravied (put some hickory in it), and cooking on a low setting.
I tried to get an order on Morrison.s and Iceland again, but no luck.
I got the vegetable stew sorted out, and despite my ailments, I enjoyed it a lot. Talking of lot, there was a lot of it as well, but I ate it all!
Getting the washing up done afterwards was so frustrating! I reckon I dropped or spilt more things than I didn’t!
01:45hrs: I stirred into an ersatz version of life; feeling otiose, vague, and in need of a non-alcoholic potation. As I removed my horrendously ever-growing stomach with thin arms and legs attached to it, from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, the innards gurgled, I started coughing, and wind passed involuntarily from the rear end! 
I got the kettle on, took the medications, again dropping the Omeprazole capsule, and made a brew of Glengettie. Into the computer desk, and had a look at the two-page, side-effects of the Omeprazole’s leaflet. But there was so much of it, I gave up. 
I tried for the ninth time in 24hrs, to get a Morrison Grocery order done. Hehehe! What a hopeful, old, gullible, senile idiot, I am! 
I did a try at getting some food from Ocado. Another negative, no slots available!
The cobs will be perfect with my beans later! Onions and carrots, I’ve got some parsnips in reasonable nick, in the fridge. Tomorrow’s meal sorted thanks to the donator. That frees me from the worry of having to go out today! Bless whoever it was! Canned mushy peas, baked beans, sardines. A yoghourt that unfortunately has the lethal to me cranberries in it. Milk, lemonade, tomato puree, and some white bread. So kind of them! Oh, and a can of orange pieces, a perfect after for me! 
The landline flashed and sounded, I woke and fumbled my way to the phone. It was Jenny, helping me out again! She had miraculously got through to Iceland to give an order. And, as is her natural, considerate, obliging characteristics, she asked if I would like anything adding to the order for Saturday. If I email her back with anything, she will add it to her order. Not many folks would think of that, but Jenny is special. 
My body just wanted to sleep, but I wanted to get back to Jenny and thank her and give a little list of items she had kindly asked for me to add to her Iceland delivery. Her delivery is for late on Friday, and Jen’ politely said she would not wake-me then, and bring it to me until Saturday morning. The lady is so thoughtful! So, a treat of braised beef in onion gravy cook-in-the-bag again for me this weekend after all! Bless yers, Jenny! 
The hickory seasoned beans with the last of the tomatoes, and triple-fried chips, and the Jenny-supplied bread, were smashing! 
As slowly as I was hobbling, and as carefully as I could, I still managed to give myself a toe-stubbing on the corner of the kitchen door! I held onto the door frame for extra support, closed my eye, and withheld the urge to cry out loud and swear! A few moments later, after a Thought Storm that was partly incomprehensible, but included niggling, depressive thoughts about my bad luck and stupidity, I got the medications from the drawer and imbibed them with a drink of spring water.
02:35hrs: I awoke, still feeling a tad groggy and tired. I waited for the brain to engage gear and the fog to lift from the grey cells, and things became mentally at least, active! By the time I’d had an enthusiastic and satisfying itch around my massive, wobbly, overweight midriff, I recognised the urgent need to get myself to the wet room! So I did! 
I few moments of Mind-Thoughts blasting: 
Spirits dipped a tad when I went to get the medications out of the draw. I am now taking the Warfarin doses blind. No blood test for weeks now, so obviously, I have no idea what amount I should be taking! At least if I am imbibing too much, it might just be cutting myself and bleeding to death, might happen if Little Inchies fungal lesion flows. Too little Warfarin, and a stroke, seizure or heart attack. But, of course, that’s providing that the Coronavirus doesn’t get me first! Or Duodenal Donald doesn’t burst open. Maybe Anne Gyna’ll get me? Or the mechanical ticker battery will run out? Or the blood cancer starts again? Perhaps, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters will go into complete failure? Or, the Peripheral Neuropathy may start an involuntary right leg Schuhplattler dance, when I’m crossing the road, and I’ll get squashed by a lorry? No, no, no! With the lock-down I’ll not be outside will I, and will there be any lorries on the road by then anyway? Ah, the part bullet still inside me might suddenly rust? Nae, its been no bother for donkey’s years. It’s a game innit? Hahaha! You’ve got to laugh!
By the time I’d stopped the Mind-Blast, the tea had gone cold. So I took the medications to the computer desk, oiled the ear-holes, creamed certain areas in need of the same, and made another brew. I noticed that I had acquired what looked like a scorch mark on my right hand? No doubt during a period of a Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter failure and the nerves did not inform the brain.
I tried again to read my notes to use on the phone call with the help, from Angela. 
Embarrassing 
Odd that I should use the term I did there. Because that is the very thing that emitted from my innards moments later, a little sort of silent involuntary Plump, felt more than heard! I hastened to the Porcelain Throne, but didn’t make it in time! The evacuation again was under the control of my innards. Runny, messy, and smelly. Yet, still, the movement was painful? Had a shower and cleaned up, new PP’s on, and the trousers were thrown away, disinfected thoroughly, in a black bag on there own! Now my spirits sank, shame grew, and a despondency developed!
I then read about Morrisons supplying £35 food boxes, £10 delivery. But could not get to find them on the site, of course. 
I gave up computing and any thoughts of mind control as the head spun. 
Back to the recliner room, I went. The Emergency Grey Bin was half-full. Yet I couldn’t remember using it overnight? Depression and self-pity Mode now adopted! I then noticed I had liquid in the tray on the Ottoman and down the sides of it! I’d soaked the mobile phone, Lumix camera, the notepad, and pens! Whatever the liquid was, it didn’t smell at all? Another Mystery! I think the mobile and camera are both done for, neither would turn on after I tried to dry them. Depression Mode Adopted! Somehow, I found myself just accepting the situation, although angry with myself. It took me an hour to clean things up, between many SWDWWs (Short-weak-dribbling-wee-wees). Now I may have to spend more money on replacements. Grumph!
gleplop of the highest order! I found there were not enough medications in the drawer to fill all of the pots – then realised I had not fetched the prescriptions from the chemist! Oh, boy, today may well be one of my worst for ages, the way it’s started! I was short of just six Warfarin and one Bisoprolol (Beta-blocker). So, off to the pharmacy in Carrington later. Ay-yay-yay! 
At least the resulting readings were all looking okay. 
Dia-Limit capsule after. 
05:29hrs. Got some breakfast. A cuppa and some cornflakes. Watched a DVD on YouTube. Got carried away on YouTube. 
Fantastic chinwagging session and a laugh or two was enjoyed. The hero then gave me a lift to the chemist to collect the prescriptions and back home again!
Put the medications on the kitchen top, had an SWDWW wee-wee, and down to the washers. 
been someone who could bend down to do the job, so I cleaned it. 
Put the swipe in the trouser pocket, and down a final trip, to take some photographs and collect the washing. 
take a photo on Chestnut Way. Being the weekend, there were not many folks about. 
I had an amble around for a while, then went back in to check if the clothes were dry enough, which they were. 
Marmite crisps and cheese, with Vegemite sarnies for the nosh. I just felt like them!