Inchcock Diary & Ode to Putin, Tuesday 7th June 2022

Tuesday 7th June 2022

07:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I thought it would never come; it must have been 15hrs without one. It was hardly worth it, a painful sprinkle or two. At least the bladder is working again, so fingers crossed!

I set, too, giving myself a medical MOT. And taking ‘As needed’ non-prescription medications. There is no need for ointmentating this morning, No Little Inchies fungal lesion or Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding whatsoever! Excellent results on the blood pressure machine, best for ages!

The only thing not so good was the body temperature. That was way down low again. Been under the NHS’s recommended 35°c for a few days now. I don’t feel poorly; I am a lot chirpier in myself this morning. Although I felt so cold when it obviously isn’t?

I took some under-tongue CBS oil. And a Hemp capsule too.

Got the ears well saturated with the Olive oil. Let it sink in, and then I filled up the canals with more. This never seems to help, but I’ve got into the habit of doing it each morning now.

Then took a Dioctyl to help skid up the darned Porcelain Throne evacuations. Messy. Gooey, watery! Eurgh!

I got a few Warfarin tablets ready, so the carers will have some available for the evening doses.

Then, had a bash at syringing both ears. Not only a total waste of time; I failed to remove any wax at all, but I made such a mess I had

to clean up the water that had sprayed out off or missed the ears! Hehe!

Got the kettle on and sorted the laundry, not forgetting that talk-a-lot Esther would give me some hassle if it wasn’t ready and sorted when she arrived later this morning! Not that she scares me an anything like that, of course. Ahem!

I took this snap of the lovely morning sky with its ever-changing hues. Mother Nature, again shows us her beauty! The beauty we have been destroying for years.

Got the computer on and started on the WordPress reader and commenting, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime brought forth Carer Richard. I thought the lad was late coming; he’s had extra calls on again and was in a rush because he had a four-hour training session later when he finishes work with the Diabetes team to get through. No time for any good natterings today again. I think he felt guilty about it, so I tried to cheer him up, wished him all the best, and gave him a bag of treats. Then, I walked (well, hobbled) with Richard to the lift lobby and wished him well for the meeting.

Took this photo of the car park in front of Woodthorpe Court from the kitchenette window. Made a brew of Glengettie tea and was about to return to the computer with the nug of tea – but circumstances changed…

As usual with Neuropathy Pete, his timing caused the optimum amount of pain and hassle. An involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance made me drop the cup as I grabbed Metal-Micky and the side of the sink to keep from going over. Once more, it was over in seconds, but I still managed to clout my knee on the edge of a floor cupboard. Which awakened Cartilage Cathy in agony! Humph!

Sorted myself out and took an extra Codeine. And fond this photo of a meal from which I can’t work out? It was not a good photo in any way, shape or form, so it might be one that I meant to delete from the file?

Started on the Snippets blog, and the Iceland delivery arrived. I let him in through the intercom box in the hallway, and I cleared a path to put the bags into.

The driver took the bags through to the kitchen for me. Gave him a choice of plonk cans in thanks. He opted, I noticed, for the Rum and coke. Hehe! Good for him; I hope it cheered him up a smidge.

They sent the Rustlers for Richard, sugar snap peas, mushrooms and some new Pork & Pickle Bites. Three for a fiver, so they must be good. One for Josie, one for Richard and one for Esther. I got some small apples that, hopefully, my lesser-teethed mouth can manage to eat. Har-har! They had no small vine tomatoes in stock but have sent me a pack of large tomatoes, Dutch, that had a sell-by date for today. No charge!

The best thing they had sent was the No-Moo ice creams and No-Bull burgers. The best of any burgers I have tried! The ice cream is by far superior in taste to what one might call natural ice cream. Grrreat Flavour both! I’d have ordered more, but I dared not with Iceland’s record of crap unrelated substitutions!

I had another go at getting the Snippet Ode done. (I did get it finished, but not until I’d been grafting on it, on & off, for another nine hours!) Esther arrived and came talkingly into the room. She still wasn’t near enough for me to hear her, and I feared that she may have something vital as she went into the hall, front, and living rooms.

It’s not so bad when she’s face to face and not shouting at me rather than talking to me. Esther, bless her, has a habit of talking and carrying on. Esther keeps talking to me from the rear of my ear lobes as she turns away… the peace and quiet are nice. But there is always danger in this… She has a great memory and thinks because she’s told me something, I must have heard it and will remember it. (Both are impossible in my condition, Haha!)

Then, a week later, I get an ear-bashing from about 4 inches distance and am informed that “I told you that last week!” telling offs. Luckily I can rest assured that Esther will nip off into the other room to have a nosey around my boxes and occasionally iron a shirt… but talking to me all the time from the other room… still, I knew what to expect. Hehe! Obviously, I had forgotten something or not heard it. I’m glad I got the pork & pickle thingamabobs for her now. Giving her then assuaged her aggression. I joke, of course… Erm? She’s an angel, really.

I got the ready meal into the oven and had roughly 40 minutes before it was cooked. I must not fall asleep!

Back to doing the blog, I trudged. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and I wearily (Mentally) went to the door. It was Josie, returning the tray and things for me from the Sunday meal. Bless her cotton socks; she enthused over the taste of this Sunday’s chilli stew! That cheered me up a bit! She even asked if I used to be a chef? Oh dearie me! My EQ was nervous at this. Naturally, I had no idea why at the time. A feeling of foreboding matured…

I got on with the Snippet blogging again! So deep in concentration… still making errors after cock-ups, though. Then it dawned on me that the food was in the oven!!!

Grade A: It looked like this after I’d burnt my fingers getting the tray out of the oven post haste! Not good, is it? But I was so tired and weary that I still used it and made a meal of sorts out of it.

I added some BBQ sauce to the tray. Got some slices of Milk Roll bread, tomatoes and sugar snap peas onto the tray.

I was part mad at myself, well darned annoyed with myself, and so tired and drained, I didn’t get too agitated. Yet I still laughed at myself as I tried to dismantle the encrusted burnt meal to get at some edible bits of food. It helped in having some bread and sauce to soak some resuscitated bits to eat.

By the time I’d finished burnt food mining, which was tasty, believe it or not, bits of burnt food had been scattered far and wide on my stomach folds, down the pants, on the tray, and on the floor and recliner cushion. The carpet took on a new design; there were many black, ash-like bits of residue on it. I faced a long task in getting things sorted… and the kitchen and oven needed cleaning attention as well.

I was all in by the time I got things semi-put right. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and ate a huge bowl full of veggie ice cream! I finished it and lay there as I dropped off to sleep – it was so good that I think I dreamed of sleeping…

♫Oh, Susana♫ Chimed out, and Carer Valerie came in. I’d been up and about for around 12 hours by then, and waking up after five minutes of sleeping was not what I wanted… Hehehe! I remembered to give Valerie her Pork & Pickle whatsits, though.

I felt awful but could not resist the urge to finish the blog. The internet went down… now I was getting annoyed!

I pressed on and got the Snippets blog finished at long last. It stayed that way; it was now gone midnight! I realised then that I had not done the ablutions today!

Humph!

ODE TO PUTIN

Is it true that hopes and expectancies are always there?
Putin’s are conspicuous, World Domination, I fear…
He’s somewhat of a Worldwide parcel courier?
Soon, bigger, dirtier packages will be sent, and nuclear…
Where will the scumball strike next? Europe and Asia, it’s unclear…
Anywhere, somewhere, possibly a country that’s weaker?

Is it true that he wears a lemon and pink brassier?
Shags Igor Sechin, his First Deputy Prime Minister?
He laughs at citizens dead or gathered for warmth around a brazier,
The man could not be any more selfish and crazier!

I insult the shithead cause there’s nothing else I can do…
But I would, if I could, send him a can of poisoned Irish stew,
I wonder if he likes it from his minions in his rear?
He’d like to make his competition dead or disappear?
What competition? He’s got more weapons & forces than we do…
He’s more soldiers in Moscow’s Red Square!

We cannot afford to send troops there…
We’ve not got enough, nor has anyone else, to be fair…
I wish we could send him Tony Blair…
Notice he’s not volunteered to do any damage repair?
Putin offers and hopes only for death and despair…
To the rest of the world, we can only die or forebear…
Unless you bribe him if you’re a financier?
Then he just might take a fancy to yer?

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock: Diary & Odes, Saturday 4th June 2022

Saturday 4th June 2022

Birthday of Angela Jolie

 

I popped over to see her.

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Fan… Bloody Tastic! I don’t think I had above seven spring awakes last night! I was aware of this as I stirred into a pretend sort of wakefulness. The need for a wee-wee became apparent… and increasingly so as the seconds passed…

I fumbled my way out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid-Harold-testing, not-working, sleep-impeding, nauseatingly beige coloured,  recliner. On the first foot shuffle, the right leg flailed about in one of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s rare, but famous for having Inchcock over and floored, Neuropathic Schuhplattler, dance routines. But, I beat the beast this morning, although how I’ll never know. Mind you, it was only a short sharp effort.

The only injury, and not a bad one by any means, was clouting my right knee on the chair arm as I hastened on one leg, to half hop back into the recliner. I don’t think I’ve caused any bleeding to Harold’s Haemorrhoids, no warm wet sensations from that area.

I stayed sat down where I landed, and I took a minute or two to catch my balance and composure. I reckon I’d done well there, not a bad start to the day, two minor victories on the trot, a good start! First, the getting some sleep, then mastering the wily skills of Neuropathy Pete, and avoiding what could have been a nasty tumble. I decided against going into another Smug-Mode though, I’ve been caught out like this before! It’s always a risk to engage smugness, something always seems to happen to spoil the moment.

I gently and cautiously rose to get to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for another unwilling, much force needed, and little evacuated, what was came in mini-sprurts and sprayed all over the place.

Not that it lasted long… certainly not as long as the after-dribble did. Again I was lucky enough, to avoid getting anything outside of the bucket doused. (It really is hard to resist going into a Smug-Mode, you know!) After the wee-weeing, I cleaned and sanitised the bucket, and got the kettle on.

I forgot all about the kettle being on, but I used the electric one, so no need to worry. Which for me, is saying something! I got the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer and got the BP done. Good figures: SYS 1487, DIA 70, Pulse recorded a sensible 91 bpm. Just one point over the recommended figure. The body temperature of 34.2°c was yet another pleasing result!

It had to come!

MedPhorpain Into the wet room for a wash, and I made a start on the morning medicationings. Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was checked, no bleeding, so ordinary Germolene was used. I Phorpained Cathy Cartilage, Arthur Itis’s knees, and gave the hands a good rubbing in, cause sure as eggs are eggs, I’m going to get Colin Cramps visiting again.  I syringed the ears out, dried it best I could with tissues, and got some of the three times a day Olive Oil dropped into each canal. I fear that the syringe did nothing to more any wax. Grungleturds! Despite my hope of loosening some by the constant use of oil three times a day! Took a Hemp capsule, because I forgot to take it last night. And orally took some CBD. Then a good few gulps of the Pentac.

I had the right job, trying to get the Phorpain on my feet! I wonder if there is some spray I could use instead? I’ll have a look at the web later. (He says, actually believing that he will not forget to do so. What an innocent fool the man is!)

I made up a waste bag, and it was time to utilise the Porcelain Throne. What an evacuation that was! I anticipated another struggle to get things going, and I utilised the crossword book… As I applied the littlest bit of pressure… Splurt-Plop! All done in one go! But it seemed to shoot out, and being of a sloppy, watery nature, it splashed all over the Porcelain, but stuck to where it landed! Worra Gooey mess!

I cleaned up and made a brew of JS Red Label Extra Strong tea. Went out on the balcony to take a snap of the end car park, and see if RVD (Red Van Man) had managed to park between the white lines. Of course, he hadn’t! The driver of the white van would be a good person to get parking tips from?

Finally, I made a start on updating yesterday’s blog. Much belatedly.

💙💛🧡💜 The Carer arrived, and much to my pleasure, it was Carer Sarah! 💗 She is beautiful, and a Caring Carer. So patient, and likes to have a natter! Perfick! She showed me photos of her two daughters this morning, on her mobile phone. Two great looking gals, with cute faces that relays their happy nature and cheeky ways. I fell in love straight away! Hehehe!

I was a little mad at myself for getting all behind with the blogging. I made a determined effort to try and catch up on it. I made a start on yesterday’s finalisationing. Got it posted, then Emailed the link. Went on WP Reader, and answered some comments, some great ones from Professor Bill. Always seems to raise a smile and or laugh from me with them. Thanks, Billum!

Then onto Facebooking, which with the TFZer gang, is always a pleasure. Then back to some more WP Reading to get caught up. Made a start on this blog.

I was sat sitting here at the computer, and that dreaded warm wet sensation was felt from the lower rear region! Off to the wet room to have a decker at the problem. It seems that there must have been a delayed reaction from the Haemorrhoids when I plopped down on the recliner hours and hours ago, now. For bleeding they certainly were! I got washed up and Germoloided the area (very soothing). Got some new PPs on again, I used the cheaper but just as effective Depend pants, that I got from Amazon. Now all I have to do is hope the piles don’t erupt again. It’s a life innit?

To make things that little bit worse, the unneighbourly, superior-natured, Gentleman above me started his knock-knocking once more. Still, it didn’t last too long this time.

Blimey, where’s the time gone? It’s now gone beyond 15:00hrs! I’d better get some nosh made up. I’ve got a few beans left from last night. I’ll have some chips and veggie pastie methinks. The chips were Harry Ramsdens. A good name and reputation, even if costly to buy, I’d bought a big bag too. I had to pick out the black eye spuds as I got them into the oven tray.

2: Another Splurt-Plop, messy session.

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and got some low-calorie nibbles put out on the counter, for the Carers. It’s surprising how tasty these little 99 calorie ones are, I knave been known to indulge in one now and then myself.

Got the nosh sorted and served up… but not without the usual mishap… Hey-Ho! My poor little toe! I dropped the sauce bottle and it landed with extreme precision, right on my side-toe bunion. I just laughed it off and carried on.

I ate the nosh and gave it a taste rating of 6.5/10. Then got the TV on, and the Hungary v England Euro game was showing. Then remembered the No-Moo ice cream I had in the freezer, so went and got a big bowl of it to nibble at it while watching the match.

I didn’t like the fans booing at the anti-racist stance kneeling by the England players. But, there can be no disputing that Hungary was the better team on the day. We’re playing Germany next I believe.

The BBC reported: This opening Nations League fixture was due to be played out behind closed doors as part of sanctions imposed by the governing body for racist and homophobic behaviour by Hungarian supporters at Euro 2020. But Hungary exploited what is clearly an obvious loophole in UEFA’s regulations to ensure England was greeted by a large crowd, comprised mainly of children 14 and under accompanied by adults, and the sort of noisy hostility that made a mockery of the idea this night would act as a warning against future transgressions. What should have been stony silence became instead a wall of noise and the game was concluded amid wild scenes of joy and a lap of honour by Hungary’s players after Dominik Szoboszlai’s disputed 66th-minute penalty gave the hosts a 1-0 win.

Hungary’s elation was aided by an England display dripping with mediocrity and fatigue in a truly surreal atmosphere. Fair enough!

Part-way through the game, evening Carer Valerie arrived. She was perkier than usual, which was nice to see. She took a can of refried beans off my hands, as the other can I bought, tasted too strong for my innards to handle. Picked some low-calorie nibbles, grabbed the waste bag on her way out, and we shared farewells. Bless her!

Head down, but again no sleep cometh, tried the TV and that was all crap… then remembered I’d got the DVD working again, so put on a Dr Who disc in.

I watched the first ten minutes or so, then started nodding off and jumping awake, which is a regular occurrence nowadays. I persisted trying to watch a bit in between the nod-offs. Eventually, I got off to sleep for an hour or two, and the last episode was on the screen when I woke.

ODE TO CONFIDENCE

This became obvious and apparent some years ago…
After the stroke, depression became an afterglow,
I waited, thinking an increase in abilities will follow,
But my hopes were dealt many a death blow…

But I’m so much better than other patients, I know…
Some patients didn’t make it, which brought me sorrow,
Since then, Peripheral Neuropathy, a broken toe…
Cataracts, Glaucoma, even some impetigo!
But, Dementia Doreen is the worst furrow!

To fretting, panicking and self-hating, I’m a theow
Yet still want, no need, my caring to show…
No idea if it’s working out yet, though…
People go the other way, rather than say hello…
To the madman, who looks like an overweight scarecrow!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcocks Selected Whoopsiedangleplops of the day

ONE

SOCK GLIDE-GLENDA

Absolutely!

This morning, I used Sock-Glide-Glenda, rather unwisely,
I felt confident and assured that I could use it injury-free!
I wanted to prove I’ve no need to be nervy…
Sure, that I had the ability, guts, and dexterity!
I thought this task to be just a formality…
Where I got this idea from also confused me!

It was going along pretty well, almost easy peasy!
But my confidence in my abilities turned into nihility…
Stepping out of frame, I lost my feelings of sensitivity,
And tumbled onto Glenda… tempting moribundity!
Scratches, bruises, welts… such a pity…
I soon lost my earlier orotundity!
I really am a liability!


Although the welt is morphing into putrefaction…
Add the bruised on the head for precision,
I came out in fair nick from this Accifauxpas action…
I’ve had no severe reaction…
It just spoils my good looks and beautification!

TWO

The Iceland Food Cometh!

No unavailable substitutes, things looked good,
The driver took the bags to the kitchen…
Thanked him, can of pop given, as I should…
The stomach wounds show no signs of blood…
I’d ordered some beef chunks, priced very good,
Went to get the fodder away as I would…
Then I saw the beef; some pieces looked like wood!
The rest were coloured red, as they should!

Above is the photo I took of one of the packs of need. Some pieces looked like cannabis colours blocks; the others looked fine. Opening up the pack, still in date, the texture of the CBD Hemp looking ones (about 30% of the contents!); was of an entirely different texture to the others? Things got me a little hot under the collar; when I checked the other two trays, they all had the Cannabis coloured chunks in them. I visited the Iceland site, and I checked the email that Iceland had sent…

I tried through the internet and found a page where they said I could email them… Fine, I thought, I’ll do that then… I’d got the details needed and went through a mammoth set of questions to finally get down to the email Iceland section at the bottom… But No! There was a list of reasons for the email, and one had to be selected. Otherwise, it didn’t let me get to the email page. Grumph!

So, I had to try the landline.

Dialled the number, and it was answered quickly… I waited… By a recorded message telling me they were experiencing a large number of calls and spent a few minutes telling me how I could contact them on the web, even recommending that I do that.

But not for long; the recorded message chappie interrupted the kip-the-sods-waiting music, which seemed like every minute. “If you want to know where your delivery is, phone…” Then next time something like – it was hard to hear him) “If you wish to question any charges… ring” – Followed by “A list on all new products re available at ……… .com” I had about ten of these interruptions.

Eventually, I got a real person to talk to. But hearing what she was saying was a nightmare! I answered all the details asked of me. I didn’t know how many pimples I had on my bottom, so I couldn’t answer that one… Hahaha! Only joking!

After only 20 minutes of the call being answered, I thanked her for her help. I’ve no idea why. I hadn’t got the foggiest notion of what was going to happen. But did catch ’email mentioned a minute before she rang off? So anticipate getting one (email) about a refund… or not, if I’ve got it wrong again…

I got this Email shortly after laundry and ironer Esther had gone. She kindly brought me the numbers to ring Amazon about the misleading information about my deliveries. Bless her.

And here we go…

Three

Amazing Amazon Cock Up

They told me as below on the tracker thingamajig. That the Galpharm Capsules would arrive on 20th – 21st April. They were delivered last Thursday 14th April). More of concern, they told me the Throw had been delivered last Saturday? I have not arrived yet! And was originally due on the 23rd of April. Confusion reigns?

–  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –

Four

Things started well; I oiled the ears to make them less waxy,
But they were still solid; the oiling failed dismally,
I syringed in water, which worked satisfactorily…
I waited for anything happening, cynically…
The noises from the canals became sort of crackly,
I viewed the treatment as failed – somewhat sceptically!

Nasal clearing, Germoloiding, Germolening… carefully…
All going okay; I Pain Gelled my knees and ankles easily…
Got the eye drops in… well, practically… but woefully…
Some got into the eyes, but with Shaking Shaun’s ability…
I got most of it down my cheek into my mouth, literally!

Then came the Blood Pressure taking…

Then onto the sphygmomanometerisationing,
In other words, the blood pressure taking…
The results lately have been astounding…
The last eight tests, all within a high rating…
But only just, nothing worth worrying about…

Flibbledonkackles! & Spurgledamnations!

Great Balls Of Fire!

Bloody Nora, what a shock!
This made me clench my buttock!
And my bladder wanted to unlock!
Hehehe!
I’ll have to ponder and take stock?
I checked the NHS site, like a shot!

Computer on, I entered details in the NHS, BP chart…
My result was off the scale; I passed an unintentional fart,
But I felt well pretty well, as best I could tell…
Leave it; check again later? Is that smart?
Listen to some music, perhaps some musical art?
Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart,
He was only 39 when from this earth he did depart!
I’ll go on the NHS helpline, well, it’s a start…

This message came on the screen after I pressed the ‘Go’ button to see the graph. Automatic response, mayhaps?

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A typical day for an old one like me… ruminations…
Frustrations, Whoopsiedangleplops, abominations,
Lack of socialisation and communications…
Accifauxpas, injury collecting, misread intonations,
The mind’s acute lack of clarity and precision!

Deafness, warping conversations,
Confirmation of hypertension…
Worries about the yobbo’s flat intrusion,
The brain is confused between reality and illusion…
A nasty, Thought-Storm invasion,

But odd things that baffled yet pleased me?
A movement in my loins, the first since 2003!
A yearning to have back my 4×4 Panda Sisley?
I wanted a pan of streaky smoked bacon, crispy…
Needing the dentist to repair my cavity…

Hate: Dementia Doreen, for causing such deficiency,
Denying my once held abilities, from logicality…
Ensuring my confidence less, and other disabilities…
My memories fade, but old ones remain: A malady?
Not knowing what time & day it is, is not an abnormality!

Failed & deferred appointments, like with the audiologist,
A Doctor who I’ve forgotten what she looks like?
The Ophthalmologist, no appointments were missed…
That’s cause I haven’t had one yet, about which I’m pissed!
Three cancellations from the phlebotomist…
Just the one from the immunopathologist,
Four from the Gerontologist, Two for the dentist…
The DVT clinic, four from the neuropathologist…
Could I get help from a psychiatrist or hypnotherapist?
A couple more to put on the cancelled list!
I must stop moaning… I must desist!

–  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –

.

Inchies Friday Diary: Festivities, gaiety and other fibs! Hehe!

Fort Thomas News Exclusive!

After several years of collecting scientifically challenging reference books, Professor Billum and his partner HRH Lisa, who are now stuck indoors due to the snow, are tackling the job of reducing the number of books in his basement library. He hopes to make room to expand his laboratory and thus, make more room for his medical experiments. Inchcock (rear) said; the task is phenomenal.

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Inchies Friday Diary
Jollities, Festivities, Gaiety and other fibs!

I fang you! A decent kip for once; I reckon I only jumped awake about six times overnight. Not good, of course, but better than the preceding three evenings efforts.

By the time I’d clambered tottering dangerously out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, haemorrhoid-testing, rickety recliner and caught my balance, I realised how evil the eyes were this morning. So, first job the drops, let them settle, then put some of the sprays on them. After this, they were no worse, and maybe I imagined it but seemed a little better than when I woke.

The ablutionalisationing was tackled first, even before thinking of making a brew of Glengettie tea (Worrying that?). It might be the fact that each time I woke up during the night, spongy emissions of wind were evacuating out of the rear end, and Reflux Valve Roger was sticking a bit, then bursting forth, painfully for a minute or two? But, I felt a little stinky, I thought – mayhaps the rear end emissions were going on while I was asleep?

I got inside the wet room, and the mind meandered off on its own. I got the shower going! Boing! I totally forgot what the time was, and after getting the teeth done and shaving with only two tiny minor nicks, thus assuming a Smug-Mode… I still didn’t recognise what I’d done at that time, and I merrily whistled (Which is getting harder each time I lose another tooth) and sang gayly to myself as I started doing the medicationalisationings.

MedPhorpainWhich soon put an end to the Smug-Moding, whistling and singing! As usual, I got the potentially most painful job of cleaning and creaming Little Inchies fungal lesion out of the way first. Agony! There are no pain or problems with the Saccades eye drops, Harold’s Haemorrhoids cleaning and creaming, ears oiling, or Arthur Itis Phorpain gelling.

As I was about to increase my level of smugness, it dawned on what time it was… and I’d just used the noisy shower – Guilt overerflowethed!

A Carer arrived, name? Erm… Gorrit, Cassie! She was to take the laundry for me on Fridays, starting today. I had got the bag and capsules softener all ready for her. She did the medicationings, and I treated her to some nibbles and a drink, and off she went.

Onto the computer to finalise yesterdays blog and post it. A message came in on the mobile, it was from Iceland Foods… Ah, I hear you now asking – Why did the pillock have another order from Iceland? The silly old goat had one yesterday?

Ahem! Well, that would be due to my Wednesday and Thursday’s Whoopsiedangleplopping. I made some cheesy potatoes for Richard and got his visiting day wrong. So, I gave them to Valerie, who came. Then Thursday, when Richard was calling, I made another dollop of cheesy potatoes for Richard again – then, I had no potatoes left. Hahaha! So I made a minimum order for today to get some more spuds for myself to have. That’s about right, I think.

The rain started to fall, but not too heavily. Then began to get a little threateningly darker out there.

I took this picture from inside the balcony, too wet to open a window.

Shortly, the Intercom rangeth. The Iceland delivery had arrived. I pressed him in, and I hoped it would not be the same driver as yesterday, or he might think me a bit of an idiot having a dirty-great big order, then another on the following day. He’d be right if he did, by the way!

He carried the bag of spuds separately, only two carrier bags, and he took them into the kitchen for me. Haha! I wish the bloke yesterday had taken the eight bags into the kitchenette for me.

I thanked him and let him choose which can of plonk he fancied, and off he trotted with a cheery farewell.

I’m glad I remembered to get the drain-unblocker. Not a lot to sort out this time. I got some cheapo Beef Jerky to go with the freebies to make the minimum order. Oh, and some Cadbury mini rolls.

Sister Jane rang, or did I ring her? One or the other. Dementia Doreen again. Total blank on what we spoke of… indeed am I thinking of yesterday? Sad, innit?

I then rang Obergruppenfürheress, Warden and Ballet Dancer, Deana. Not seen her for a while. The gal was at home. She’d tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 and had been isolating. She hopes to be back on Monday. I said I was ringing to let you know you hadn’t collected your treat bag this week – now I knew why! Said they would keep until Monday. Haha! Nobody tells us owt, do they?

And an hour or so later, the door chime rang out its’ ♫Oh, Susana♫ chime, and in walked Carer Valerie. She had collected my washing for me, and she’d brought it up to me. Bless her cotton socks! She said she’s made sure they were dry enough for me.

So, I got off of the blogging and sorted out the clothes. By gum, that bag holds a lot of stuff. Hehe!

I got in a pickle, found the coat hangers, put some on the door, and spent a good while faffing about. Then realised I was not doing this in a planned, smooth way… Hahaha! 

I meant to put all the rousers together on a rack and jumpers shirts on the other.

Which seemed like a logical thing to do.

However, Dementia Doreen had other ideas for me. I ended up with a mixture of trews and jammies on one rack and trews, jumpers and shirts on the other. Ah, well, at least I got them hung so the creases can fall out a bit.

The toploftical, unforthcoming, ascetic, eremitic, aloof, sniffy attituded Herbert had been giving me some tapping on and off for an hour or so. Now, he’s just gone into Turbo-Tapping and Banging mode! What a Git! Mind you, let’s not forget my Whoopsiedangleplop with using the shower early in the day? The difference, I think, is snot-bag superior Herbert enjoys doing it on purpose?

I made a rare mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. As the rain stopped and the sun fought its way through to shine on Inchcock Towers… well, Woodthorpe Court then. Hehehe! I grabbed the Canon camera and took this photograph of the view.

Then the hungers-pangs began, and my desire for some more cheesy baked potatoes overcame me. I got up some steam (I was starting to feel a bit weary) and started to prepare the third on the trot (4th Counting Carers Richards and Valerie’s) Cheesy Baked Potatoes meal!

Cheesy Potato Nosh – Flavour Rating 9.3/10!

Note: Only the four half spuds? No, not self-control; I made eight and kept three to cool and have later on (Cunning?). I would have had four, but I dropped one when putting it from oven to pot – it splattered onto the floor and a slipper, which both needed attention, cleaning sorting out. I may have muttered something along the lines of “Oh, bother?” Then, I feasted on the meal, put the tray on the Ottoman, passed wind and belched… and Flake-Out-Time!

Herbert started clanking and clunking away again, and I woke to his mechanical overture. Hehe! Pig!

Luckily it didn’t last too long this time. And I drifted off again. To be woken by the tune of “♫ Oh, Susana… ♫ chiming out. The evening Carer had arrived. She was in a rush, so no chinwagging was permitted on this occasion. Off she trotted, bless her.

I spotted the meal things on the Ottoman, and I took them to be washed and put away. Noticing the lack of wonderful sun-setting after three days of gorgeous one, I stood and had a perusing of the evening sky. I realised that even with the absence of the usually vivid colours for the last few days anyway, there was still a beauty to be beheld.

Getting daft or soft on my old age, or not?

I went onto the computer to work on the blog and visited Facebook, the TFZ and Winwood Heights sites.

Went on CorelDrawing; Herbert was doing the odd banging about, so it was not until gone midnight before I got my head down; off I went and slept a bit better, only about five shooting awakes.

ODE OF THE DAY

Wants (Peace) & Not Wants (Herbert)

Cataract operation, before it’s too late – appealing!
A friend with time for long chinwagging,
Someone who doesn’t hate or finds me appalling…
But I don’t blame them, and that’s a bit galling!
One tablet to stop my shaking and trembling…
The ability to once more try cartwheeling?
The willpower for me to stop earwigging,
A better than Warfarin pill, stop the haemorrhaging,
But most of all, I’d want, after some deep thinking…
The end of people, domineering,
And those who go around sneering,
Those who cannot care have empathy are non-obliging…
The know-alls who go around rubbishing…
Rushing, superior in outlook, verbally scathing…

Compassionless animals, one lives above me,
Above my little independent living flat, you see…
I nicknamed him Herbert, and he’s not trouble-free…
He makes noise at all hours, sometimes the whole day,
He’ll start again today, I guarantee…
He acts superior, and nonchalantly,
But, the things he’s roisterously making go to charity…
The housing officer says no cause to moan, apparently,
So I won’t, or might lose the flat, alackaday!
So untouchable Herbert will carry on noisily…
He’ll keep waking me at night, arbitrarily,
I must resist responding early morningly…
What can be done redeemingly?
Two wrongs don’t make a right, seemingly…

KEEP SAFE IN THE SNOW
Keep safe all of you, affected by the snowstorms please,
If you can, avoid driving and soirees,
Polish your ottomans and tallboys?
And for even more joys…
Try canned beans and saveloys?
Sew the missing button on your corduroys?
Have warming wine delivered by Pomeroys?
Play great music, possibly by the Beachboys?
But don’t contact the killjoys!

Inchcock Today: Diary with Ode

LAST NIGHT’s CATCH-UP

I decided to get some Cheesy Potatoes done for Carer Richard when he comes tonight.

I soon turned into an uglier imitation but albeit me a smaller one, a younger one, less fodder-wise, shorter, and an older one, of Gordon Ramsay. Hehe!

I even donned my Toque. I thought it would be an unexpected treat for Richard, and all my remaining concentration went into getting it prepared properly. I intended to make it the best I could, and luckily Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was helping by not playing up too much. This is good! I thought, so I pressed on conscientiously and even felt a bit proud of my efforts. Smug-Mode-Assumed. I got the last potatoes in the oven, and they were done in no time. I got them out on the chopping board added all the seasonings you can see in the photo above. Then bashed the living daylight out of potato flesh and mature, strong cheddar, adding Squid sauce (liquid salt), BBQ seasoning, spirit vinegar, Worcester sauce and a dirty great-chunk of butter! It took ages to get it all to mix together, I don’t know how long it took me, but I was all weary-armed by the time I got the shells back in the oven to brown off. Haha!

I was feeling even smugger when they came out almost perfect! Well, as I would have liked them too. I was planning on four for Richard, two for me… I ate mine straight away!

The door chime played its Oh, Susanna tune, and I anticipated Richard coming down the hallway, but whoever was buzzing did not come in. I realised why when I got to the door – “I’d left it locked form when I took my shower!” What a plonk!

Opened the door to see Carer Valerie. I’d made yet another cock-up! I thought Richard said he was coming tonight, but Valerie told Richard is coming in the morning. So, I gave Valerie the cheesy potatoes. I packed them in foil and put them in a bag for her, and she seemed to like the look of them, which made me content cause Valerie is a good gal to me. Wished her farewell, and she took the waste bags to the chute with her, for me.

Before I turned off the computer, I had a look at my Google Calendar for the next few days. And son realised I had not put some things down… although I really was confident that I had done? So, I added them!

Checked on my plates and legs; they were a lot better looking than yesterday. As I was just about to start getting smug again…

I felt the wet warm sensation of gushing blood within the protection pants. I hastened to the wet room to find, with maximum embarrassment, it was not blood but urine! The recent bouts of smugness were abandoned and replaced with a dollop of shame and ignominy! Depression threatening!

I started on the Health Checking in a slightly lower state of joy and contentment. The body temperature seemed fair enough. Got everything cleaned and medicated and changed into the night attire.

The sphygmomanometerisationing showed the Blood Pressure was up a smidge, at Sys 148, Dia okay at 68, and the temperature read 86. Nowt much to worry about; I’ve had a lot higher at times.

I was well tired when I got changed and medicated. The eye drops ought really to be called nose or mouth drops, in my case… Humph! Despite Shaking Shaun kicking off, I must have been tired, for I was off to sleep in a flash.

I was soon woken up by Herbert bashing about. At this time of night, it might not be late for some, but it is me, 22:00hrs gone! The ungregarious, unamiable, unloquacious, haughty, pompous, git! Still, he soon stopped. This may have had something to do with hitting the roof with my walking stick…

Which serves me right, cause I stubbed my toe getting back in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner. Tsk!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Thursday 3rd February 2022

I woke up (I do that sometimes you know), and a renewed inspiration took place. I intend to get the cheesy potatoes ready for when Richard calls; he will not be done out of his treat. I laid there and pondered on the logistics of my desire with the cheesy spud making:

  1. I only have a few small potatoes left to use
  2. This will mean I cannot refill the skins for him…
  3. I’ll heat the potatoes, then give them a good mix and bash with the cheese (plenty in the fridge) and seasonings.
  4. Put them in an oven dish.
  5. Timing will be critical, though. Richards ETA, 06:30 to 07:30hrs… Mmm!…
  6. Fingers crossed, I’ll make a start then…

The pots were put in the oven cooking, and I did some blogging. Then got the tubers out and sliced them. I’d got the cheese in the basin all ready with the seasonings already in it. I then took the flesh out to mix in the bowl…

Got the cheesy spuds in the tray and back into the oven. They were soon all looking good and browned off pretty well.

I removed the tray, burning my fingertips as I did so. Then tidied up the appearance, and I wrapped it all in tin foil and awaited Richards arrival.4

I dropped the small husks back in the oven and nibbled them a few minutes later. Nice! I’m afraid I’ve got the taste back for cheesy potatoes. I ordered Iceland to get their baking potatoes and some wine for someone or other. Not saying in case they read this. As I was starting the order, today’s Iceland order arrived.

I’d forgotten I’d already ordered some wine, which was delivered today with the other stuff. I can tell you now, it was for Sister Jane and hubby Pete. I’ll ring them later to say to them they can collect them.

I’m not so sure about the Iceland new Fruit & Salad desserts. In fact, I don’t recall ordering them? But, there you go.

Minutes later, Richard arrived. The lad seemed a little tensed up for some reason to me. He didn’t seem exactly jumping with joy at the meal I’d made for him. But kind enough to take it anyway. Methinks Richard is having some bother of some sort. I hope whatever it is turns out right for him. I hobbled him to the door and wished him well as he departed, taking the waste bags with him. Bless him!

Back to the blogging. Got a call from Sister Jane and told her about the wine awaiting her pleasure. Then the Haematology Nurse, Hristina, arrived. She was in a rush again but chatted while she took the blood. Gave her an Easter egg, but I had to almost force her to take it. Hahaha!

Sudden Dizzy Dennis visit, joined shortly with shaking Shaun. Not too good this.

Mind-Wanderings and pointless Mental Memorabilia

A gal once asked me, I think her name was Gloria?
Have you ever experienced utter euphoria?
We then got grips and a bit overfamiliar…
She asked again; I said no, and we ate a veggie burger.

Christine later said, she thought me peculiar,
So I didn’t see her again and chased after Julia…
I liked her, although she was older and ganglier,
But she didn’t take to me, she was always wiser…

Then a gal who was brawnier, my beloved Grizelda!
Encounters of passion, she wore no brassier…
Her body was all firm and desirably muscular,
While it lasted, I did find utter euphoria…
She was visiting the UK, from Mülheim an der Ruhr,
Grizelda went home, leaving me feeling sadder!

Then came Fern, for me, she was classier…
Sex-mad, but grumpy, niggly and crotcherier…
And it has to be said, she was much clumsier,
She’d greet me with not a smile, but leer…
Proving her to a smidge superior…
With pleasurable connections, she couldn’t be freer!

I’m writing this rubbish cause I’m having a Thought Storm,
My wording and writings, not precisely in the artform,
What can you expect from someone so lowborn?
Musical, me? I did try to learn the fluegelhorn…
Also the piano, private lessons from a Capricorn…
One lesson and he said ‘You shouldn’t bother’: with scorn!

My bank balance is getting nearer to being overdrawn…
So, I’ll not be going holidaying to climb the Matterhorn,
Or my dream, of going on a boat around Cornwalls Zawn,
Hello, I just had an attack from Shaking Shaun,
Better stop now, clear up my on the floor sandwich of brawn!

Part of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Hehehe!

Inchcock’s Third Escape from the Lock-Down, to Nottingham. Photographically recorded!

Inchcock’s Third brave but stupid, Escape from the Lock-Down

We understand, that the Nottingham City Council Security, the Police, and the newly-formed Boy Scouts Woggle-Anti-Lock-Down-Escapers-Retrieval-Team are after him, again!

He arrived at Upper Parliament Street, where he spied and ogled some Nottinghamian ladies, on his way into the Poundland Store, had a Dizzy Dennis visit, and came out with more unwanted goods, such as Zoflora disinfectants, Carnation milk pots, Cooked beef misshapes, and 3×8 bags of his destroyers-to his diet, Frazzles!

He paid the lady, who helped him when he had his funny-turn and dropped his money on the floor, thanked her and made his way to the Bargain Shop on Milton Street. Observing a pair of fine legs-displaying young Nottinghamiam lady, crossing the road against the cross-walk lights. He forgave her we understand.

He patiently waited for some fine bottom-shaped, Nottinghamian Mothers to get there ankle-snappers locked securely in the pushchair, then entered the store. Hoping they would have some of the Pakistani made potato cakes, and lemon air-spray in stock. They didn’t. But the old fool felt so guilty at the thought of not buying anything, he bought a pack of four-mini oven trays, for £1.99, and left to walk through Trinity Square, up the incline, so as to take some pictures of Trinity Walk, but got yet another visit from Dizzy Dennis, and hobbled down to Upper Parliament Street.

The first of the Pavement Cyclist he saw on the short hobble, all-but ran into him. He claims to have called out, “You silly boy!” and waved at him.

Investigations are underway to find out what he actually shouted!

He limped down Queen Street to Nottingham’s Slab Square.

His near-miss at being run into again by another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist, (he says) drew a slightly more forceful response. The old grumpy claimed he said “Tsk! You rascal!”

He walked across to South Parade, where he took a shot of the side of the Council House. Not many folks there, so he turned back and took one of the Square.

He hobbled down Arcade Walk. Amused at how the Nottinghamians were totally ignoring the signs written on the paving stone, to keep to the left.

St Peter’s Square; and the silence was overbearing.

He says he felt like a disaster was about to take place, as he avoided another of the many Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists.

He told our reporter, that he wanted after over a year and a half, to go into the M&S Foodhall, to get some treats from there ready-made meal section for himself. Shame that. He could not gain entry with his walker to any door but one, all the others have stairs or step that needed tackling to get in. So, after a long painful hobble around he found the doorway, and for his bother, got walked into by two rather large ladies coming out. He could not tell what they said to him, but the words were accompanied by some well-used, superior class sneers and curled lips.

Then he had to walk for what seemed miles, to get to the lift down to the Food Hall. Luckily, there was no one wanting to use the lift, which pleased him, but felt odd, the place used to be very busy all of the day? When he got down, it was a very sad sight! The Coronavirus has had a shocking impact, for M&S. Fridges were curtained off and not in use at all! The usually well-stocked shelves looked bare, by comparison now. 

The fool paid £2 for a tiny bag of small potatoes, £1 for a mini tray of basic mushrooms, £2 for small-box of Frites, and £2.50 for four minuscule potato-rostis!

He got to the checkout and had another Dennis Dizzy visit, and Stuttering Stephanie hit him. He claims he was overcharged, but who knows, in the state he was in, owt could have happened.

The poor old senile nincompoop struggled to get up the lift and out of the one door he could use, and onto Lister Gate again.

Back wearily up Exchange Walk, with his famously-reliable EQ, telling him that hassle of some sort was on the way. Which didn’t take long to arrive!

He took a zoomed-in shot with his little Canon camera towards King Street, as a Pavement Cyclist zoomed by his, and he felt the draught the speeding idiot made!

Another Pavement Cyclist came into view.

Then another one, too!

This one came close to hitting the old codge, he came from the rear. Inchcok refused to tell me what actual words he shouted at this Pavement Cyclist.

This particular Pavement Cyclist gave our Nottinghamian pensioner a few looks!

The old scrote carried on his way up to the bus stop, and a final Pavement Cyclist belted by him. He claims he was tired, pee’d off and Dizzy Dennis was visiting him again at this stage. There might be something in what he says cause he can’t remember the bus ride back to Winwood Court!

He says he didn’t see a single policeman all day!

The can recall getting off of the bus though, he cracked his ulcered ankle on the trolley-walkers right-hand back wheel!

This was written and potomagraphed, under great stress. Just thought I’d mention it!

Inchcock – Tue 7 July 2020: INR results, Enoxaparin injections needed again. Ah, well!

TFZers Marie and Inchcock

Tuesday 7th July 2020

Japanese: 2020年7月7日火曜日

02:45hrs: Woke, worked my abdominous, pot-bellied torso, and dangly thin limbs, free of the wabbly recliner, wobbled over to the bucket for a wee-wee.

A bit of a marathon job this one was. But it had a new cloudy-bluish/grey hue to it, which was a first for me. Hum? I wonder if the seedless red grapes I had last night might be to blame? The loud annoying ‘Hum’ accompanied me, as I whistled and counted the cracks in the ceiling while I waited patiently for the LDSSM (Long-Dribbling-Spraying-Splashing-Marathon) style wee-wee to end. Then a little longer. For the diabetes-inspired, insipidus Post Micturition after-dribble, to be over with. Try saying that when you’ve had a few bevvies! Haha! At least it was painless!

I passed a blast of involuntary wind and the resulting pain from the rear end, felt like the new furunculosis, are getting a little bigger now. Not that I can do anything about it. I’ve got a queue of medical things that need doing, and am waiting for the various departments to get permission to open again.

  • The Dentist for Toothache Thomas, two fillings and an extraction needed, at least, I reckon.
  • The Podiatrist to bleed the ankle impostume, and get the toenails cut.
  • The Audio centre to open so I can get some batteries for the hearing aids.
  • Diabetes ‘training to cope’ lessons to start.
  • The year overdue Cardiac Check-up on Metal-Micky ticker to be done.
  • The optician to open again, and get some new reading glasses, and ask if he can do anything, lens-prescription-wise to counter the effects of Saccades-Sandra.

As I carried the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) to the wet room, then to the kitchenette to be emptied, washed and disinfected, I all but dropped the flipping thing.

The right-hand little finger knuckle is so painful at times, others no bother at all? There is no swelling or bruising, but the bone seems to be getting a tad more extensive, and firmer, well, it feels brittler. And the digit is moving away from its brothers for some reason?

Ah, maybe it knows about Social Distancing? Hahaha!

Got the kettle on, and took a snap of the morning view from the deadly, near-lethal ungettable at to clean new window.

I made a brew of Thompson Punjana tea and left it to cool down ao as not to bother Toothache Thomas too much.

Got the health checks started with the sphygmomanometerisationing. The results look good again.
Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters played up as I was taking the thermometer out of the earhole, I kept pressing it several times without realising it. The stick gave a proper reading this time, in Centigrade, I think. 32.7°c. I reckon this is a good result too. I think that’s about 90°f. Fair enough?

Took the morning medications, and off to the wet room for another wee-wee. A marathon leak again. The legs looked thinner than ever, yet somehow misshaped? The knees were fatter.

Spotted some welts on the tummy. No idea what caused them. Got a wash and wiped the contact surfaces. Then collected the tea, and back to the front dump, er… room, to get Computer Cameron going, and make a start on updating the Monday diary.

I got the four-pronged walking stick at my side on the right, with the long picker-upperer hung on the top of the stick. The waste bin to my left, and started of by doing a graphic on CorelDraw. Then two thoughts to use later on.

It wasn’t long before I was back in the wet room, having a wee-wee again.

At least it didn’t last so long this time, and it had turned to an orangish shade.

Ah, I seem to be working my way through the rainbow lately. Haha! Well, a bit of fun does no harm. Does it?

I started the new potatoes in the crock-pot. Added a little soy sauce and fish vinegar to flavour them a tad.

Got the updating finished. Sent the link off, then went on the WordPress Reader.

Then the danged Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet went very slowly suddenly. I expected the worst, and another failure again, but, a few minutes later, it returned without any actions on my behalf. Phew!

I set off to get the ablutioning done.

The feet and toes were giving me plenty of discomforting aggravations today, and I’d hardly hobbled anywhere yet, apart from to and from the front room to the wet room and kitchenette a few times! Granglespithowlations!

But on the plus side, Thomas Toothache was not as bad as last night. (I anticipate regretting saying this later, now!) I regret, the ablution session was back to normal again!

Ablutionalisationing Report: Painful but different!

  • By the time I’d finished and got dressed, I’d bent down and used the picker-upper so often, Back-Pain-Brenda had kicked off!
  • The teeth-cleaning, although far less painful than yesterday, involved dropsies with the toothbrush (3), Toothpaste (2) and the mouthwash bottle (2). That went down both times with the lid off. So, now I need some more.
  • The shaving was a tad farcical, too! Razors (4), foam can, after-shave (To stop the bleeding). Cuts (3).
  • Stubbed the toes moving the shower chair!
  • The shower-head went down first use of it!
  • On the bright side, it missed my feet and toes, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back to life after this incident! Yee-Haa!
  • I did get a little visit from Dizzy Dennis, though. Enough to ensure my having just one,  half-decent clout on the elbow from the grab bar, Tsk!
  • Getting dried off went well, no clearing of the floor cabinets things, dizzies, knocking against anything,  or loss of balance! Smileworthiness!
  • The medicationalisationing; Between Harolds Haemorrhoids, and the Fulton’s Furunculosis creaming, a fair amount of Arghing and Cringing was carried out.
  • Dressing: Ah, the one that caught me out unawares! I was getting a little over-confident, I think. As I was getting the PPs on, I pulled a tad too firmly, and torn them, falling backwards, and had a clash with the door frame. I lost! I can still feel the connecting moment, and there may well be a decent bruise to photo later.

I staggered out of the wet room, in agony! Hahaha! Went to make a brew of Glengettie and take another painkiller. Made up two more black bags, and took them to the waste chute.

Returned and got the mug of tea made. Took this photo of the rather foreboding morning skies, arrived on the computer to visit the Facebooking sights. Or, Facebooking sites!

 Getting on with this blog, and the intercom rang out. Aha!, it was Nurse Hristina arriving, so late I’d forgotten about her attending. So, I had an uplift in spirits at seeing her again!

She thought I looked a little bashed about (her words). I didn’t see the blood coming from the back of my head, not worth worrying about, only a tiny bit of it from the fall backwards on the door edge, I imagine. She was in a rush again, but I still enjoyed listening to her as she worked and chatted to me. Bless her!

Always sad when she has to go.

I got the oven on, warming ready for the fish in batter. To have (I decided), with the new spuds, can of garden peas, and fresh tomatoes. That’s the plan anyway. Did some more updating on this post, and got the fish in the kiln.

Prepped the nosh, as the rain poured down relentlessly. Oh, and the balcony door that locked on its own accord last month now does not shut-to at all. Another of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, and hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given them by Mephistopheles, instructions; ‘Let’s make life unbearable for Inchcock’ mission?

The nosh was a little bit different today. The tomatoes were edible for once, nice! The fillets were fine and crispy coated! The new potatoes had no bad, festering or marrots in them. (You can’t win em all, Morrisons’) The smart way that Iceland had created the hardest ever, teeth-damaging, cement-like cooked beetroot, was first-class! Suffice to set Toothache Thomas off again!

Overall, a 6/10 flavour rating. Which was just about passable!

Washed the pots, took the evening medications and was soon nodding off, sat in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner.

The Thought Storming began, so I put on a Boon DVD, and this seemed to dissipate the Thought-blasting. The first time this has happened. After a few nod-offs, waking again, rewinding the DVD, I drifted off into a blissful state of Sweet Morpheous!

The landline flashed and rang. Tsk! I somehow got out of the recliner and to the phone in time before it stopped ringing. It was the Anticoagulant (DVT) Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic, with some not so good news for me about the Warfarin INR blood test results.

The level was the lowest its been in a long time, at just 1.3! I was back on Red-Alert! I must carry the Anticoagulation Card with me at all times.

The kind lady went through what Enoxaparin I had in hand and was careful to get me to read the details from the box, to avoid any errors in working out the dosages I’d have to prod myself with. She went through the dosage and asked questions about my health (that took some time to deal with, Hahaha!)

She was most understanding when Stuttering Stephany, annoyingly kept breaking up my answers. A kind and patient lady. Thank you, warmly M’am! This cheered me up and made the process so much easier to cope with.

The new immediate doses (I was writing them down as she told me), were; Tonight; One Enoxaparin Injection, and FIVE Warfarin tablets! Wednesday AM: One Enoxaparin Injections. And she is trying to arrange another blood test for me on Wednesday, so just the Enoxaparin Injection for now. Then the lady will contact me with the results and new dosages etc. for me.

I thanked her muchly and hoped that I could read my scribbled notes to get them recorded later.

I got the injection in the stomach done, then took the extra Warfarin.

Within minutes of taking the Enoxaparin sodium anticoagulant, the ticker began to race, which is usual and no worry. Other than it prevented me from getting to sleep. I was all mentally full of beans. If you know what I mean?

TTFNski.

Inchcockski – Sunday 5th July 2020: Muddlement, perplexity and trepidity

TFZers Shirley & Andy

Sunday 5th July 2020

Swahili: Jumapili ya 5 Julai 2020

A lousy night! 02:30hrs: I fear last night was one of the worst kips for months. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley, she was the main perpetrator. It seemed every few minutes she was giving the right scapula some stick, often viciously. The shoulder and neck are aching so much at this moment. This had not happened nocturnally before?

As the need for a wee-wee came on, I glanced at the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), where I intended to make for, and realised I had a blank, or several blank periods last night. The bucket was too full to use, yet I cannot recall doing so at all last night, or can I? The mind was somewhat confused at this stage, and a hazy mist seemed to be lingering amongst my thoughts.

I got up, nippily too, onto my feet, to find that my balance was not right. A fleeting thought of my possibly having had another nocturnal stroke, was soon dismissed, as I managed to quickly correct my tumble back into the recliner, and preventing any painful clashes between Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the boils and the arm of the chair! I could not have done this if another stroke had been suffered. This cheered me up a tad. Well, a lot!

Off to the wet room for a wee-wee, no need for the seated Porcelain Throne activity. That concerned me a tad, the Macrogol may not be working. Shall I take another one or not? The mind was jumping about a bit now, changing from on worry to another concern repeatedly. The wee-wee was of the SCWP (Sprinkly-Cloudy-White-Painless) variety. Washed, and off to the kitchenette.

For some reason, I saw beauty in the views through the unwanted, thick-framed, light and view-blocking window; designed obviously by an ophthalmophobia-sufferer. I took some photographs while the kettle heated up. The Canon camera did not do the scenes justice. They looked incredibly eerie to the eye. Still, after looking at them on the blog, they are not so bad after all, just too small for details to show up. My bad! I’ve always wanted to use that phrase. Hehe!

Brewed the tea, let it cool down so as not to bother Toothache Thomas too much, while I did the Health Checks. Much betterer readings this morning. The earhole thermometer showed just ‘Low’.

I took the brew with me (in the left hand!) and made my way carefully to the computer.

Had I known then, the problems and difficulties I was going to face, I would not have bothered!

I got computer Cameron going, and opened CorelDraw to post, touch-up and to create some graphics for yesterdays blog updating.

  • Coreldraw refused to respond to many buttons and keyboard activations. I lost hours trying to get it right!
  • I turned everything off, after a battle to get CorelDraw to save my work already done, I had to give up and lose it! Grrr!
  • Restarted CorelDraw, but with no change in the faults! At least it let me save the changes I had not made?
  • Then it froze altogether! Crigglebogsnot!
  • I had to close it down by turning off the computer, things were looking bad now! Grobognangles!
  • I gave things a while to calm down, then rebooted the computer. Oh, dear!
  • I opened CorelDraw first. And hey-ho and yippee! It was working! I felt over-the-moon!
  • I opened Firefox, and then WordPress. Shit! The internet was down!

  • I gave it time to restart of its own accord. Fool! 
  • Turned everything off at the box. Waited for five minutes. (Whistling to keep calm).
  • Got the internet turned back on, and still no action. Spit!
  • Pressed the reset button. Waited a few minutes, went for a wee-wee, which surprisingly turned out of the irritatingly durable, WSSULL (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Long-Lasting) mode!
  • When I returned, the internet was back on!

What a kerfuffle, foofaraw, hurry-scurry, fracas, hullabaloo and time-consuming start to the day! Unglefrogwogglings!

At long last, I could make a start on the blogging process. I was so irritated with things, Duodenal Donald joined in with Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley in annoying me, now! Grumph!

The Liberty-Global Virgin box was flashing a little worryingly, too!

I got making much-delayed progress finally with the updating of the Saturday blog. It was very pleasing when Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and Dizzy Dennis departed and have not yet returned. (Give them time, they’ll be back, Ha!)

Sent off the links.

Went to make a brew of tea, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room. Almost a pleasure after the last few days of concrete evacuations and crosswording while I waited. It was still painful, but far less so. And, this time, no bleeding either. Highly satisfactory! The Macrogol seems to be easing the situation. I’ll just take one later, I don’t want to get all blocked-up again.

I made the template and a start on this post. Slow work now, Saccades Sandra keeps having a go at me. Went on Facebooking for a while, can’t stay too long, the ablutions and Josie’s meal will need tending to soon.

Quick photo session now the day is brightening up. Very pretty and allowed me a few minutes of neophilia enjoyment.

As I went to put the computer to sleep (If only I could do the same with myself, Tsk!), I got an email from the Surgery. I went into investigation mode!

The message informed me about the Phorpain and Fenbid gels I use to counter Colin cramps and Arthur Itis:

Flammable gel. May form flammable vapour mixtures with air. Avoid all ignition sources. All potential sources of ignition (open flames, all types of smoking, pilot lights, furnaces, spark-producing switches and electrical equipment etc.) must be eliminated both in and near the work or rest area. Side effects of the gel: Shortness of breath. Unexplained wheezing. Blisters or a rash on the skin. Swelling of the face. Itching, redness or bruising of the skin. Digestive problems such as abdominal pain or indigestion, particularly in people with a history of stomach ulcers. Kidney problems. Allergic reactions: such as asthma attacks, narrowing of the airways (bronchospasm), swelling of the lips, throat and tongue (angioedema), itchy blistering rash or anaphylactic shock. Stop using Phorpain and Fenbid, and get immediate medical advice if you have an allergic reaction.

That was nice and encouraging to know.

Off to get the ablutions tended to: Another amazingly short on Dropsies, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops session!

  • Overall, (No shower again, too early for them on a Sunday), only about six dropsies in total!
  • Fair enough, the shaving was interrupted by Shoulder-Shuddering-Shiela, this brought up the razor cuts a smidge, to five.
  • I required three wee-wees during the wash-up. All trickly, painful jobs, but still no bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion!
  • The rear-end installed clump of furunculosis caused a lot of pain when I washed the area, and even more so when I had to apply the Germolid and hydrocortisone creams. Oh, boy, Yes!

The pins looked even thinner this morning. Am I withering away? I wish they’d take some from the stomach first. Hahaha! That is getting ridiculously massive!

When the dressing started, well, by the time it had been done, I’d gathered a couple of more little bruises to the arms and elbows, with losing my balance and hitting the edge of the door. But I didn’t go over! Smug-Mode-Installed! 

I went to make another brew, and thought that the clouds were even more awesome now! Well, even prettier is a better word to use.

A quick bash on the WordPress reader, the Libert-Global Virgin Media internet threw a few wobblies, sticking, momentary breaks in service… I’m not sure why I mentioned that. It’s not as if it’s unusual. Huh!

Dizzy Dennis visited, and I was sure I was in for a bad session, the spinning head, warped vision and unsteady grasp on distances were all showing up. Two-minutes later, everything had cleared? A first that!

I got on with prepping Josie’s meal. I put extra Leicester cheese and butter in the cheesy potatoes but used instant mash with chives today. It came out smelling and looking good. I nibbled a forkful, and it passed my taste-check for Josie.

Had a go on the WordPress Reader, then back to make up the meal. Delivered it to Josie. She seemed happy with the look of it. Then back to the lonely flat, to prep my fodder.

I’d made a cock-up with the BBQ pork ribs. I really thought they were cook in the bag. Bit no, they had to go in the oven. So I got the pork ribs in the oven with some skinless sausages.

While they were cooking, I set the timer and left in close by so I might hear it in case I nodded off, and I’m glad I did.

Twenty minutes later, the timer woke me, and I got up from the c1968 recliner with ease, and proceeded to the kitchenette, walking straight into the door frame with my right shoulder! That pulled me up a bit sharpishly! Off course, within seconds Shoulder-Shuddering Shirley kicked in!

What a farce it was getting the meal sorted, plated and on the tray. I dropped bits of mess on the floor, in the oven, down my stomach, stabbed myself (well, it sounds more dramatic than, stuck the fork in the back of my hand, Hehe!), dropped a knife, spoom, spatula and sauce bottle!

I dropped and broke my last bottle of Balsamic vinegar, spilt water on me and the floor washing the saucepans. Things were going to pot here!

Eventually, I got semi-sorted, not comfortable with shoulder pain and shakes. But by then, the meal was disappointingly not very hot. But I wasn’t too bothered, and got down in the recliner and ingested it all. I imagine the spare ribs consisted of 80% bone, Tsk! But what meat there was, tasted delicious!

Somehow I got the pots washed, and part-way through doing them, thank heavens, and most surprisingly, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley stopped, just like that!

Feeling suddenly extra weary, I got settled down in £300, second-hand, c1968, recliner, with some cheese biscuits and a bottle of spring water… That was it, I was off into the blissful land of Sweet Morpheous!

I woke in need of a wee-wee, assuming it was early morning, and stayed up. I later discovered it was not yet midnight. Klutz!

Inchcockum – Saturday 4th July 2020: Slowly downhill as the day went on. Humph!

TFZer Model: Nancy ♥

Saturday 4th June 2020

Zulu: NgoMgqibelo 4th June 2020

02:30hrs: My first hodiernal thought on moving my legs as I stirred into mock-life, was: “Why after days of the knees being so kind to me, has Arthur Itis suddenly returned with a vengeance? Then I realised what a silly question this was.

I reached for the tube of Phorpain 20% that  I keep expeditiously at the ready on the Ottoman for any bother with the knees or hands (Cramps or Arthur Itis). And massaged a dollop of it into both patellas areas. The hands, fingers and wrists got jealous at this I think, and they kicked of, so they were given the treatment as well.

No sooner had I done the embrocations, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, although not with any real urgency this time. So, I freed my laboriously, wobbly stomached body and skinny limbs from the c 1968, none-working recliner, and off into the kitchen, and made-up and took another dose of the Macrogol. Then to the wet room.

The evacuation started of its own accord but soon got stuck part-way again. Tsk! I grabbed the crossword book, and painfully waited for the pain-plus to start, when it began moving again. Eurgh, argh, and other antagonistic words were uttered, but things moved swiftly then. I think last nights double-dose of the laxative must have helped things along. But it was far from painless yet!

A good wash and wipe around, and off back to the kitchenette. Where I tended to the Health Checks. Starting with the usual sphygmomanometerisationing. The results looked good enough for me. The stick thermometer showed up as ‘Low’. I had another sachet of Macrogol, then made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

And took a couple of shots of the morning view. The first one on ‘P’ setting, but I had no idea what it stood for, but it came out in a different aspect-ratio, almost square? The other I did in ‘Auto’ setting, but it didn’t come out very well. But I don’t know if the Canon has a night setting, like the Nokia has, no, I mean Nikon has. That tells me on the viewer screen what it is set to when I change the settings.

I got on the computer and started jumping around from CorelDraw to the blog and back. I got myself a bit confused at times and forgot things I should have been doing. So I made myself concentrate on the updating of yesterday’s blog, and nothing else.

I went to make a mug of Extra-Strong Assam tea, and took a snap with the Canon, having changed the aspect on the settings, to 16:9. This is the resulting photo of the oh, so blue morning clouds. The wind was getting up, and just like yesterday, the damned ‘Hum’ got a lot louder. It must be terrible for anyone with normal hearing.

I got my pins up on the small swivel chair and gave the knees another dose of Phorpain Gelling. Arthur Itis is in a bad mood now! But other than the knees, the rest of the legs were looking in good condition suddenly. No Clopidogrel lumps and blotches at all. The veins seem to have mostly gone down from the surface? It’s all most confusing.