Inchcock Today: Thursday 4th August 2022

Starting with this Humorous Ode
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Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Last night I slept early, getting up around 12:40hrs, and got on with the day’s work. I’m nothing if dedicated.
After yesterday’s three false alarms, I was unsure of having a successful mission. However, the evacuation flowed in contact with the plastic throneand kept coming; at one stage, I thought my body might float into the air. Hehe! I’d passed that much. And comfortably, pain-free without any bleeding! A total reversal, I suspect that the different veggie burgers I had for dinner may have played a part in this scenario.

This photo I took of the plates and pins and forgot to put on yesterday’s blog. It could happen to anyone, Ahem! Don’t they look good? This and the excellent BP lately are worrying; I’m not used to this.

I had a wash and sorted out the waste bins. Got a cold drink from the fridge, finished yesterday’s blog, and posted it off to WordPress.

I made up the dry-humoured Ode to use and spent hours trying to sort out whatever I’d done wrong on Corel Draw, which lost me so many options. At one time, I gave up, turned it off, and got out the sphygmomanometer. 
Yet another great set of figures this morning. And I was only just inside the red zone. Amazes me how the BP has been so good this last month.
I tried CorelDraw again, and I lost the saved template. More time lost, searching without much hope… But, I found, retitled it to the original name, and all was well again. I thought

I’ve got a Morrison via Amazon order coming later shortly now. But will Carer Richard come late enough so he can have his Mushroom Pete treat? Will the delivery come in time? – Will they have any in stock? – Will they send crap substitutes? Can I freeze a fresh mushroom pate for Richard to have the following Monday? Did I remember to order some? What day is it?…

The wee-wees have eased off. The rear-end found new life. My legs, ankle ulcer and feet are looking virtually perfect. No Harold Haemorrhoid or Fungal Lesion bleeding. No stubbed toe, walking into anything, & no battle with Sock-Glide-Glenda (I didn’t put any socks on). 

Arrived when and we were both a little down, I think. What bit of chinwagging we got was not the most cheerful. And Richard broke his own record for the fastest visit today. He was soon off in haste, but still the pleasant chap he is.

I turned off the computer to ensure that when the Morrison Amazon delivery arrived, I could be in the kitchen with the door open and hear when the weak, timid, pathetic chime from the intercom was heard. When the intercom chimed out, I was taking the opportunity to titivate the mess on the draining board.
A beautiful young lady came to the door and handed me each bag I put in the hallway. She already had my address, Hehe! Took my date of birth.
I thanked her and set about taking each bag through to the kitchenette. Poor old thing! I know I’m getting old, senile and past it. It shook me that I needed a few minutes to rest after taking the bags through the hallway.
The frozen item was the Meatless Farm Burgers, as well; there’s not much free room in the freezer.
Got what might be the last of pod peas, they are near the end of the season now, and it shows.
The fridge, on the other hand (not that I actually had a fridge on the other hand), had a lot of fodder that had to be jungled and jiggled to make room to get the stuff in there. These included some Strawberries, one for the Wardens, and Carer Valerie’s weekly treat.
Bananas, and my favourite veg seasoning, Oxo. These cubes have a fantastic flavour with them. I got some rice in, as it has already shot up in price, and a lady on the TV last night said to expect a lot more increases.
I put the warden’s weekly flower treat in the hallway; it’s cooler in there and rang to say they could be collected anytime. And if the DVT nurse comes early, I’ll bring them down to the office for them.

I must remember to ask Deana if the lift for the Diabetes session is sorted cause with Nathanial staying late to go over my missed meeting course, I will not know when I will be leaving. So will have to get a tram to Nottingham, a bus to Sherwood, and another bus up to the flats on that Friday. Fingers crossed that the ailments give me a break, which they are doing now… but they’ll be back! Haha!

Minutes after typing the above, the wet warm glow started in the lower regions. Why did I have to open my mouth? At least today, I can patch things up with the invaluable help of the shower before medicating. I always dread this happening when I’m out and about. Pure luck that it doesn’t happen too often… come to think of it, I’m not out usually anyway.

I’ll turn everything off computer-wise now and get the ablutionalisationing done and medicating certain areas in need. Back in a while…

“Lambasting-to-Self: Oh, No, you great fool, the DVT nurse and Deana are coming, aren’t they, dumbo!… I wish you’d get it together… Idiot! You know you can’t hear the telephone, intercom or even the door chime when you’re in the shower… Pillock!”
Dementia Doreen dashes your plans! Did you see that? The vaguest iota of contentment or thought that things might about to be going well, and what happens?

11:10hrs: Checked the tracker on Amazon; 3 stops away; I’d nearly forgotten about this delivery coming as well! Tsk! All that hassle getting the shower repaired, and now I still can’t get a shower! Or much sleep, either.

Took these photographicalisations of magnificent puffer clouds on display. A tremendous deep shade of blue?

11:39hrs: Checked the tracker on Amazon; Still 3 stops away.

Got some chips in the oven, chip sarnies for a snack? Cooked it, took a photo of it (and it didn’t get on the SD card?), ate it (the chip sarnies), and fell asleep.

Zzz!
Amazon Red Leicester delivery arrived. I put them away.
Zzz!
Esther called to see how things were, off on holiday. Wished her all the bestest.
Zzz!
Wardens Dean and Julie arrived. To do the yearly fact updates, we did them, and I mentioned the lift to the Diabetes at Bulwell. The leading man, Nathanial, is staying behind on this session to help me catch up with the one I missed, thanks to Meridian Care lot not letting me know they had failed to arrange a lift for me after saying to me; “We’re sorting it, no need to worry!” Deana phoned the transport people and arranged for a ride for the Friday 12th, 2nd session. I had to join something, and Deana sorted it all for me on the phone. Lovely, ♥! Deana also gave a note with the relevant numbers on it… But can I find it? NO! But I did remember to provide them with their weekly treats, flowers, and strawberries. Searched for hours for the note… maybe she didn’t give me one, or… I’m getting muddled again. I emailed her the list of the meetings and mentioned the mystery note… I am a fool!
Zzz!
. Arrived, I was well deep into sleep again, a rude awakening. Haha! Got the medications sorted out for me. Treated to a choice of plonk/nibbles. Off he went, not taking the waste bags to the chute. Cause I didn’t remind him. However, I had all the waste made from the other deliveries to sort, so I got on with them and took them all to the waste chute.

Cathleen’s Cartilage was playing up after I twisted the knee getting into the chute room. Pain level, only 4/10. Easily bearable.

Onto the computer and sent the list of sessions to Warden Deana. Updated this blog up to here. Then started the template for Fridays.

I nipped into the wet room to check that the shower was not leaking again, and…
Gave myself a good toe stubbing against the dreaded, fearsome Sock-Glide-Glenda. Catching the ankle ulcer at the same time. When I took this photo, later on, the end of the toes of the affected foot was white, and the rest of the foot was glowing red; the leg above was ghostly white?

Just another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. I just laughed it off, of course.

I got this blog finished. I’ll post it in the morning.

It’s been a busy day. But getting help from Deana, and Ethel checking on how I was going, meant so much to me. Bless ’em! ♥

Inchcock’s Diary & ‘Today is Tomorrow Ode’

SUNDAY 24th JULY 2022
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I know I was awake until my last wee-wee bucket visit, which was around 03:00hrs this morning, and getting back to sleep came easily, for Sweet Morpheus has been very stingy with me of late.
It didn’t last long, about three hours, for, at 06:00hrs, I shot awake, certain that noise had woken me up! I had to fight my unwillingness to rise from the recliner and have a search around for ant signs of intrusion, damage from something falling etc., but found nothing looking untoward?

I got the computer going, and the card reader worked the first time! I put in the close-up shots of the legs and the pathetic evening meal (Although I did enjoy it!). I got the blog for yesterday, finished it, posted it and off to the wet room; I poddled limpingly.
CW05 The event went similarly to yesterday; Despite the innards telling me to let go and my input in trying to get things moving, it was painful, so much so that I gave up and waited for nature to sort things out. I had a go at the crossword while waiting patiently. I even got two more solutions in the grid.
But… as I stood up to check on things for bleeding and giving myself a good wipe and clean up, as I turned to return the much-used toilet roll, Dizzy Dennis hit me. I naturally put my hand out towards the wall to stop any prospective tumble or fall for me – and if I remember rightly, the following found their way to the floor, some of them via the ankle ulcer and bloated toes. The olive oil bottle, after-shave, crossword book and pen, the Germoloid tube, the Germolene tube, and a half packet of Protection Pants! After finishing off my personal medications, I tackled the item retrieving and even got a fresh pair of PPs changed into. If anyone has any surplus supplies of Germoloid ointment or cream, I can willingly take it off of their hands, only I forgot to order some, and am now have just maybe, enough for two medicationalisationings of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, thank you).

All sorted, I went to get a cold drink from the fridge and noticed that it had been raining a bit.
From the kitchenette window, I took a photo of the facing car park of Chestnut Way, an interesting bit of parking there,

Then, from the balcony, a snap of the Tree Copse, which only set me feeling sorry for myself now that I can’t go for my daily ramble through it.

Back into the cookhouse and started to p[rep the veg for Josie’s meal. I took another shot from close to the window to try and catch a decent image of the rain hitting the glass. My eyesight seemed a smidgeon worse this Sunday. To all intents and purposes, the spots were running down the glass; when I took off my spectacles, they were not and just seemed stuck like glue in the positions they were already?
I went through my collection of old glasses; to see which helped better… or rather hindered my sight the least. I found that the oldest reader pair and ricketiest were for computing work. Normal or long distance, none of them helped. I hope they summon me soon for the cataract to be done.

Got the medical checks sorted out next.

SIA 134, DIA 79 and the pulse oas a reasonable 85bpm.

The body temperature was 33.3°f, with a target of 35°f, it was well acceptable to me.

Not the lowest SIA, but the combination of resusults, when put in the NHS Work it out site, showed me still in the orange Pre-High stage, and yesterday and this morning are the only times it’s been so low. Proof that mt Doctor is winning the battle to get my BP down. Thank you, Doctor Vindla. It only took you six years from the heart op to get it right… well, nearly right. (Ahem!)

Carer Joseph arrived. The poor thing looked shattered. The first thing I did was ask him how he was this morning? Not too bad, was his reply. I quipped; well, not too bad is better than not very good, Joseph! That brought a rare smile to his face, and it cheered me up too. He got the meds sorted and wearily got up from the chair where we’d had a natter from, picked a vodka and lime as his choice of drinkie-treats, and off he poddled. With my thanks and instruction for him to get to bed, Hahaha!

I spent a few hours getting the blog prepped, and I made some quote tabs to use on CorelDraw. When I nipped to the fridge to see what was available to quench my sudden hunger and thirst… there was nothing! How had I let myself run so low? I blame only one person and one thing, the person, is undoubtedly me, is the thing! I’ll have to make an order for next week to be delivered, Sainsbury’s methinks.

I got the final vegetables sorted and chopped up and into the pan of the cooking Chilli-Con-Carne. It was looking okay, and after a spoonful found its way to my lips, I declared it as being Josie-ably tasty! I nipped back to the computer to get some prep work done on that. and plan to return to the cooking to stir things a bit regularly. But I got carried away, so I had to get a move on… What a plonka! But it got worse!
After a few minutes, I’d got the nosh for Josie on the tray. Took this photo of the repast. The usual bowl and a potfull of chilli for her to have tomorrow as well, some drinkies from the fridge, cheese, marshmallows and a few extras on the tray. Off to Josie’s door to deliver it, on time again, of course.

As she opened the door and said straight away: “There’s more than ever this time, Gerry! It dawned on why I’d made so much. I was going to have the Chilli as well, but somehow I forgot and gave it all to Josie. Ah, well, it’ll last her for three meals now. Hahaha! Josie seemed pleased enough with it. I wished the gal good eating, came back into the flat and promptly cursed my stupidity!
I did some work on this blog, and then I had a look in the freezer. Aha, fish and chips? That’s what I’ll have then. Got it sorted, and in the oven cooking, the writing was too small to read. so I guessed at the time needed. I assumed it would be around 40 minutes. Then a brainstorm forced me to mop the kitchen…

Oh, dearie me…

Got back to check on the food, and it was looking good.
Notice, I did not say it tasted good…
It tasted truly crap; I was puzzled at how foul the NoFish fish tasted!

I put the pots in the sink to soak, returned to the chair, and got down to get some much-needed sleep – so I put the TV on; that usually helps me nod off. And did this time for once. But I was in desperate need of some.
Over two hours later, I was rude;y awakened from my slumber as the night Carer arrived. She looked a little down and tired, so I had a chat and cheered her up a bit. She was well-impressed with her treat, a bottle of Tequila beer from the fridge. But didn’t take the waste bag with her to the chute for me. Humph! Hehehe!
Can’t imagine what I’d been doing in the sleep to cause this on my arm? I got the magnifying glass out for a closer, Sherlock Holmesian-style investigation into the mystery. But it was no good; the glass did not help me see any clearer. So, I ytied a few pairs pf the old spectacles; the black ones helped a little. I’d got a spotty rash coming up the arm, and a some beneath my man-breasts too? Mmm? Another of mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!

I had a peep out of the kitchenette window, it was not raining, and the roads had dried of the residue.
Seeing this road reminded me of an article I’d read on the YourArea website about the Grove. So I looked on the map to get its name for us. As you see, it was Applewood Grove. No crime reported in 2021? Even we at Winwood Court Independent Living, for the aged, managed about eight reports? Hehe! Then, around midnight, I took this somewhat pathetic photo of the evening view. Even I could see on the camera screen that it was not going to come out very well. It turned out that I’d moved the view mode selector in the wrong direction, and I’d put it on video instead of Auto? Writing this made me realise I’d written an ideal description for my life: ‘Gone in the wrong direction!’

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It’s true, Today is Tomorrow, or say…
Alternatively, Tomorrow could be, Today,
Neither could be both, whichever way,
Unless you just wait until the following day…
I suppose you think I’m mad, straightaway?

At times my mind tends to drift far away,
Or I’ll not know if it’s Monday or Tuesday…
This often happens on Friday, actually…
But the brain is working fairly well, unusually,
I’ll try not to topically lose it or fade away…
For I have thoughts to share today…
That may seem to you partly disillusionary,
But it may clarify our vocabulary and ancestry!

I believe that time has been too discretionary,
“Standard time” in effect for a shrinking portion yearly,

Daylight saving time, controlling the clock monthly,
Lawmakers have extended summertime schedule, surely…
Clock changes vary, with locations yearly…
Consequently, the time differences will have to vary…
Between regions, to understand it can send you silly!

Clocks, time changes, and days are not like a barometer…
Mankind toys with time, but are they right or full of blatter?
The world will soon be ending, so does it matter?
There will be no humans to worry about hereinafter…
No money to steal, no murderers, no laughter,
It’ll no longer be a disgrace to be a grammaticaster!

We have changed so much, without knowing…
Or caring for any costs in life and consequences,
Again, the ‘Lord’ is not revealing…
Although his Fathers and Priests are appealing…
The well-off are revelling…
The poor are trembling and dying,
Politicians, Bankers constantly fiddling and lying!
Scum balls murdering, mugging and burgling…
Firebombing, divorcing, schemozzling, little elutriating!

So time means… almost nothing,
Earth’s final moments are here, thanks to the Kremlin,
And people throwing recyclables in the dustbin…
We’re killing more people now than Nazi Berlin,
You’ll have paid for your pension and coffin…
But fret not; hope lies with a clever boffin!

Working on a time machine, so we can go back in time…
Preferably to a time before cybercrime,
Where workers were paid overtime!
Murderers were duly hung and did no more crime!
When folks knocked on doors and did not press a battery-powered chime!
Thus saving future generations would that be benign?
Note that this option would not be sublime…
For two reasons that come to mind!.
Who do you think would get to travel back in time?
Only the rich, politicians, and or the bosses of crime!
Earth of the future may soon design…
Another machine to travel through time…

They may go back to your current placing?
Having loaded nuclear weapons before leaving…
We’ll soon have time-machines to and fro racing…
And in the turmoil of war, wanting to be leaving…
Will be earlier time travellers, needing bullet-proofing…
God may send his lad down for some investigating…
I can hear him now “What the hell have you been doing?”

If you can get the chance, you’ll travel back to now…
Chances are, you can start again. but I’m not sure how,
Cause the time will have changed somehow?

Life may have restarted: a few cavemen on earth now?
Show them a torch, and they’ll kowtow,

Get to know them, have a powwow…

Soon, of profits, you’ll begin to think!
And suddenly put up with the cavemen’s stink,
Invent money, sell them coats, strip a mink,

Flog them an insurance policy and glasses if they wink,
Get them working cheaply, so they don’t get skint,
Build an army, police force, and a clink!

Mind you, I have to say…
More time travellers could arrive any day…
You must stop them, find a way…
If you can’t, alackaday…

Today can be Tomorrow or Tomorrow Today!

I Fang You!

Inchcock’s Thought Storms

Introduction

His odes, in many ways, are like a zit…

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

Inchy’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have to the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

But is losing the battle; thus, he is about ready for his crypt.

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His odes, in many ways, are like a zit; yes, I meant zit,

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

He’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

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

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have into the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

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

But is losing the battle, thus ready for his crypt

But the business went bust,

And I started to lust…

For a gal with a big bust…

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I’m prepared, but not too keen, on my upcoming sepulchre,

To be honest, I don’t see it fits into human culture…

Well, I used to be sociable, in fact, I was a campanologer,

Waking folks up Sunday morning… was my main pleasure,

Which I took my time with because it was a pleasure!

 The locals warned me off, bellringing, with a fervour,

So, to avoid a pasting, my bell rang no more…

Anyway, it hurt my arms, then I got a shoulder fracture…

So, I bought a barrow, and became a costermonger,

Giving me so much time watching the sky and pareidolia!?

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Mood Update:

While struggling to get the preceding crap ode done, I got increasingly confused. I may have just posted bits of a Snippet ode wot I did in between today’s efforts. I have to write this stuff on Word, and then I get a spell checker. Then cut and paste into Blogger, where the colour and font size usually changes, and I have to go through it all again, ever correcting! I got a little depressed with things, life etc… I gave up and transferred it to WordPress. It’s a true-life farcicalness with Doreen Dementia!

However, I had a bit of good fortune in taking a tumble while making a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. Cracking my left knee on a cabinet corner as I went down. Everything seemed to change then, outlook and contentment-wise.

 I suddenly gleaned a previously unthought series of thoughts:

Why am I worrying? The end is nigh, and whatever I do, the Doctor will not accept Doreen Dementia’s existence, so there is no chance in hell of getting any help. ‘Fact!’

As much as I miss my daily hobbles, walking to the shops, and in the tree copse. I no longer have the ability to take them. ‘Fact’ You’ll just have to accept the inevitable, Chambers!

Walking into things may get less after I’ve had the eyes done. No point in fretting over it, the right eye cataract will take time to work, but there is a good chance I will again be able to do crosswords (not that I was any good at them, Hehe!), Not fret over the other eye being done afterwards. It’ll take a long time ‘Fact’.

Should I snuff it before they are done well? Would it matter? Apart from an unknown to me, a battle to get at my valuables from sudden relatives who care… I shall not be around to see it, and I can’t take them with me, (Or, can I?). So, good luck to them. ‘Fact!’

I tried thinking about happier times… that was not easy. Hehe! But Suzanne Jean Percival came to mind first and foremost, and they really were genuine happy memories. ‘Fact!’

That made me feel worse when I realised my current position… So quiet here today, even the noisy standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, reticent, toploftical git in the flat above was not making any noise! Loneliness is something that rarely affects me, but it did then. No one visiting. No phone calls, text messages… a sense of isolation. ‘Fact!’

After I’d cleared up the mess in the kitchen and Phorpain gelled the knee, I made another brew, of Glengettie tea this time, the mood rose… without any reason, nothing had changed, yet suddenly I was ashamed of myself – and self-loathing at my pathetic self-pitying took over.‘ Fact!’

There are so many others in a worse state than I am. Somehow, although it didn’t cheer me up, my acceptance of things grew. 

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So I got on with this blog’s making.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

LATE THOUGHT-STORMS!

As a young man, I thought I was a brainiac…
But that was sixty-odd years ago, way back,
I’ve been through periods of wine and Prozac,
Lived in a tent, then moved up to a wooden shack…
Cost of livings to high got to cut back!

I used to believe in Old Moore’s Almanac!
Bought a Robin Reliant, but I wanted a Cadillac…
That had to go because I got the sack,
Others had briefcases, me? A haversack!
I’ve never won the lottery, Monopoly, or blackjack…
Amazon, Facebook, eBay my computer track,
Maybe it’s because I’m a senile maniac?

TTFNski!

Inchcock Today

Which inspired Pro. Bill Ziegler to start building his Space & Time Machines in his basement. For his latest one, he took his beloved HRH Petal-Lisa with him. They sent me this photo.

Bill, now known worldwide as Professor Ziegler, PhD, In Humanitarian Studies. Initially based in Cincinnati, since the success of his Time Travel experiments, he is now operating from Paris (2049), Palestine (1974), Nottingham (Current), Germany (1925-1945-2015), Outer Mongolia (1911)and Britain (1155 years BC). He has been assigned by the FBI, CIA, Walt Disney Jnr and Joe Biden to nip back and get proof of fiddling in the last US elections. Hehehe!
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Well, it’s not Telstar, but earth’s moon. I took a photo when I got up. What is impressive is I went and put the kettle on, and I’m talking about eight hours ago now, and I still haven’t made a mug of tea! Gobsmacking!

After faffling about starting many jobs and tasks, having to visit the Porcelain Throne a few times, and forgetting what I was doing beforehand… repeatedly, I started getting the photographs on the blog. Then realised I had not begun to prepare Josie’s Sunday meal yet. So, I did! Although I began to do well in the task at hand and maintained a modicum of concentration…

I prepared the vegetables, tomatoes, leeks, garden peas, soya and mushrooms in the saucepan. Then the beans and chilli were seasoned into pan two… I was almost at the stage of developing a Smug-Mode… until! . Oh, dearie me, a classic Whoopsiedangleplop, with an Accifauxpa to follow…
I’d just tasted the chillies before transferring it to the veg pan; and thought a squirt of more distilled vinegar would be a good idea. (It wasn’t). As I took off the bottle cap, the neurotransmitters failed, and I ended up juggling the bottle, getting soaked in vinegar, and layering the kitchenette floor with the escaping contents…

I had to delay the nosh-sorting to clean up the floor and my clothes. Then got in a spot of minor Conrad Confusion state. I was unsure of what to do first, sort the food? No, that’ll make the mess worse walking through it. So, into the wet room and got the mop and bucket out. And… that couldn’t have come at a worse time for me… I hit my knee on the sock-glide getting to the mop & bucket, and Cartilage Cathy kicked off, and I ended up moping the floor while using Metal Mickey, the walking stick! Not an easy thing to do! I had to stop and get some Phorpain Gel rubbed into the right patella. I was making things worse instead of better. However, when I dropped the mop and bent to retrieve it, a severe stab of pain and the cap had returned to the socket, no longer painful, just a smidgeon sore. Haha! Had my luck changed? No!

The door chime chimed, and in walked a late and not a very happy-looking carer, Joe. I rushed to finish the floor; it took about five minutes or so. I hastened to Carer Joe to take the medications; Joe met me at the door, anxious that he was not delayed any longer, as he had a lot on. Took the tablets, gave Joe a choice of tipple and nibble and went to the door to see him off. I forgot to ask him to take the waste bags. But I was feeling guilty for keeping him waiting. A low point in the day. But at least the kitchen floor was done.

I was still in a, well, erm…, a nervous state, I think. Still not happy with me getting mixed up and keeping Joe waiting, although he was far behind, he didn’t moan at me. I took a snap of the end car park from the balcony… that did not cheer me up in the least; It just brought back the problems I’m having with Facebook taking off all of my photos of the car park, the meals and me medical ones… others as well.
I’ve stopped using Facebook now..
. I’d like to close down my account altogether. Why are my photos not keeping to the standards of Facebook? I’ve seen some posts with swearing and anti-Royalty comments, and they seem to be okay with Facebook standards? Please let me know if anyone knows how to close a Facebook account. Mind you, I’ll lose my Troll Free access and Winwood Court too… Oh, I don’t know!
On the Blood Pressure, Sys was 147,
Not low or high enough to put me in heaven,
Dia 76, Pulse 81, Temp 34.1!

New medications on the collapsible table?
When? Who?… not rememberable…
Left in a bag unopened on the table.
When? Who?… not confirmable.
Pentac medicine’s effectiveness is disputable…
And Furosemide, another puzzle?
When? Who?… another bumfuzzle?
Dementia Doreen is blameable…

For my short-term memory not being retainable!

I should have used the glove or a towel,
To check on the oven-cooking gruel,
Peripheral Neuropathy makes you look like a fool.
When off-line, if things are hot or cool…
The nerve ends can’t tell the brain pool,
Neurotransmitter failures can seem cruel.

Some ailments will never be understood,
Peripheral Neuropathy, there’s not always blood,
Dying nerve ends are often misunderstood,
In fact, as above, they can be good…
The pain message is not precisely aborted,
This ailment needs to be excogitated!

No informing the brain of forthcoming pain or blood,
But belatedly gets the message through, it could…
Then you see the cut or bruise that bled…
Nowt the Doctors can do, it can’t be attempered,.
I imagine this will be why I’m found dead…
No need to fret, all the things wot I’ve been afflicted.

Twice I’ve been shot, and two cancers,
I’ve been given plenty of chances…
A metal ticker fitted, adiposes…
The stroke, Arthur Itis in both knees.
At 20 years of age came baldness,
Now cataracts, coming blindness.
Rotting teeth, deaf, body full of bruises,
Saccades, Glaucoma and diabetes,
Feet full of corns and calluses…
Mugged thrice, they weren’t pleasant,

Ankle and mouth ulcers,
Variable Blood Pressures and pulses,
Oh, and Pectic & Duodenal Ulcers,
Colin Cramps, fingers, toes agonise,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleed, a right mess,
And talk about absent-mindedness!
Now I’m full of abominableness…

So, life is now full of absurdnesses,
Paying for Carers and nurses…
Putting up with my pathetic curses…
But things could well be worse,
PN can, as I showed, have advantageousness,
My funeral cost has been covered!

But moments ago, from Jillie, she’s coming to see me!
This cheered my spirits automatically,
So, St Peter can wait patiently,
Cause I’m waiting to see Jill, besottedly!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I’ll get some nosh cooked before the Evening Carer calls.
Which I did, and took several photographicalisations while doing so, including the meal, a view from the kitchen window, and from the balcony. All 3 of the pictures have disappeared from the card?

I’m properly fed up!
The evening Carer arrived as I was getting the meal on the plate. The vegan burgers were well done when I got around to eating the meal
.
I’m properly fed up!

Evening All!

Thought-Storms Released – with odeing

Upon reading this crap, I felt a little hypnagogia,

I felt dizzy; mayhap it’s habromania?

Or even worse, a mental cacodemonomania…

You can work this out between yers…

Cause sure as hell, this ode will bring you longueur!

Things are so bad, I’ve got apeirophobia…

I’ve just had a bout of acrophobia!

I’m growing ever tubbier and heavier…

As I age, my ailments get nastier, uglier,

I’m losing my grip; it’s not just a rumour!

With such limited brain power…

The thought of teaching did hover…

I couldn’t get my head around wind power.

I was going to apply for the job of executioner…

It involved a lot of hanging around, so I didn’t bother.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I wondered, will Putin’s war remain non-nuclear?

We’re running out of space for more folks coming here…

But victims should be welcomed, it’s clear…

The world is different to yesteryear…

Putin’s warring is not over yet, I fear!

The cost of living is rising, and life is becoming austere!

There’s hope, says Boris, but from where?

The Tory Council, guilty of Grenfell, did I hear…

were at Boris’s party, no masks, but whisky and beer?

Oh, to meet the Kensington & Chelsea London Borough Council leader at the time. The murdering scum, who got off scot-free, the lucky Bleeder!

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

The chief executive of Kensington and Chelsea council has resigned amid criticism over the borough’s response to the Grenfell Tower fire.

Nicholas Holgate said Local Government Secretary Sajid Javid asked for him to go – the government denied this. Mr Holgate said the fire in North Kensington, where at least 79 people died, was “heart-breaking”, but his presence would be a “distraction”.

Perhaps if his Council had not ignored the Tenants Association Meetings warnings that were recorded; Telling them that a disastrous fire: The chief executive of Grenfell Tower’s landlord body told colleagues to ignore a resident who warned eight months before the fire that:

“Only a catastrophic event will expose the ineptitude and incompetence of our landlord!

He might not have had to resign?

Why has the legal system not used these in a prosecution?

The reappearance of Nicholas Holgate

Posted on May 4, 2022, by northkenthinker

Tomorrow, Thursday, May 5, might be Election Day, but for some also thinking about RBKC, it will also be when Nicholas “Naughty Nick” Holgate appears at the Grenfell Inquiry: People in and around the Grenfell community might remember Nicholas Holgate. He was the Town Clerk of RBKC (Barry Quirk’s predecessor) until shortly after the Grenfell Tower fire when 72 innocent members of our community lost their lives. He resigned from the Council around a week after the disaster, saying he would be a “distraction” But when asked by journalists if the then Secretary of State for  Housing, Communities and Local Government,  Sajid Javid, authorised this. MHCLG did not deny this and just issued a statement saying, “The appointment of chief executives is entirely the responsibility of the local authority,” some time afterwards. For anyone who happens to think Holgate was just some innocent “fall guy” director simply doing his job and simply just took the rap from the decisions of Nick Paget-Brown, “Jailhouse”, Rock Feilding-Mellen and co, we’ll just post a link to his statements and evidence so far”:

https://www.grenfelltowerinquiry.org.uk/evidence/nicholas-holgate-evidence-read-26-july-2021

Holgate might be highly intelligent and like to think he can cover his terms with official speak and an air of detachment, but reading what he says and contrasting that with the goings-on at the time tells quite another story – and that story is that he was a collaborator. We recommend interested readers have a look through the Grenfell Action Group archive to decide for themselves:

https://grenfellactiongroup.wordpress.com/

 Holgate is back in teaching! Not so long ago, friends of a Grenfell survivor were horrified to find out that their daughter’s maths teacher at Godolphin and Latymer School was Holgate. This school is also reasonably nearby and is only 2 miles from Grenfell.

We’ll remind Holgate that 18 of the victims of the Grenfell Tower fire were children, who he now has power over again!

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

INCHIES ODE TO POLITICIANS

It’s fear of those in charge that gets to me…

They claim to rule pretty academically,

But do so with idiosyncrasy and alcoholically,

Like PMs of old, they are full of Godwottery…

They should retire and take up making pottery…

Their expense-fiddles covered… need not the salary,

They should all be charged with kleptocracy!

These parasites caused my encephalopathy!

May they go Forth & Multiply!

ALTO-INCHY RETURNS…

ALTO-INCHY RETURNS…

INCHY: Ayup, your back again then, Alto? Not seen you for ages.

ALTO: How did you know I was here; I was in clandestine mode?

INCHY: I reckon that Doreen Dementia can detect yer; I certainly knew you were creeping about in my head…

ALTO: Rowlocks! I reckon it’s another Alto trying to sneak in…

INCHY: Whatever makes yer think that then?

ALTO: Well, I’ve been having troubles with Alto Control Room Monitoring Section, mate...

INCHY: Mate? Calling me yer mate? Summat serious, then I take it.

ALTO: Of yes, not-half Inchy. I slipped up a bit with not picking up on yer suicidal tendencies, and the ACRMS found out… some sneaking Alto had snitched on me…

INCHY: That’s not right… some foreign Alto snitching on my Alto! Can I complain about this?

ALTO: Why?

INCHY: Well, after three-score and ten and a bit of having you pestering and trying to make me miserable, these past few weeks, I’ve sort of missed you, and you are mine?

ALTO: That would have brought tears to my eyes if I’d got any!

INCHY: Don’t be sloppy; it doesn’t become you; where’s your sarcasm, nit-picking, foul language, insinuations, and determination to destroy any contentment I have gone?

ALTO: It’s a sad tale, my friend…

INCHY: Hang on then, I’ll make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and get back to yer… owd yer horses… I’ll be back…

ALTO: Thanks, Inchy… I appreciate that…

At this, Inchy hobbled off to his kitchen and made the brew described above, totally confused. Alto, thanking him, calling him a friend and mate? Not a single insult or put down uttered? This could be serious. What if the new Alto takes over? He could well be worse than Alto Inchie?

INCHY: I’m back, Alto-Inchie. Fair enough, we’ve had some set-to’s, barneys and verbal battles… Who is this invading Alto anyway, and why does he want to take over control of me?

ALTO: I’ll explain, mucker! This Senior level Alto failed in his mission on his last assignment, got the sack, and has gone rogue on the ACRMS. Being such an experienced Alto, they cannot reel him back into the fold, and for some reason, he’s chosen you as his next target?

INCHY: Who did he fail with?

ALTO: Ah, well, he was Alto-Putin…

INCHY: Putin! The Russian one?

ALTO: Yes, I’m afraid so!

INCHY: How did he fail with Putin? Good Gawd, he’s launched the attack on poor Ukraine, and…

ALTO: Yes, yes, but it’s been 133 days now, and he still hasn’t won the war, has he?

INCHY: So?

ALTO: You should read up on the ACRMS rules; I’ve sent them all to your brain to study! Rule 9920043847076/Putin/WorldWar-93939g954h, Failure to achieve the prime target within 130 earth days of the formulation; will result in the said Alto (Alto-Putin in this case) being relocated to a proletariat target.

INCHY: Oh…

ALTO: Anyway, I’ve got a hell of a fight on my hands with this Alto-Putin; he’s good; too good for me...

INCHY: Well?

ALTO: Only you can help me, my old pal?

INCHY: How?

ALTO: Simple, if you commit suicide from depression, which is my prime aim, we can beat Putin-Alto, and save the world; you’ll be dead but famous!

INCHY: Ah, so if I top myself…

ALTO: Yes… but it’s got to be through depression at all costs. Otherwise, I fail in my Prime-Mission, do you see? Then I will get extra powers in payment from the ACRMS, and I can use them to defeat Putin-Alto! Hari-Kari, whatever you want to call it, through chance-medley and/or depression is a must way to go, Inchy. The ACRMS will not accept death through execution, accident, euthanasia, or mercy killing!

INCHY: How are they going to know?

ALTO: I’ll know, but the proof will be needed. I’ve thought about this, and a suicide note should do the trick, my old chum, something along the lines of: “I can no longer cope with the confusions of Doreen Dementia, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nigel’s Neurotransmitters Failing, Cataract Cathleen, Deaf Dominic and the hellish bad luck and problems are all beyond my capacity to understand, alleviate or solve. Anything of any value I leave behind is to be shared between all my relatives and friends. I leave contact numbers for all three, in the first-aid box, in the ambulatory oxygen tank racking.”

INCHY: Alto, do I detect a little sarcasm creeping into the conversation here?

ALTO: Hang on, I’m getting a message coming in from Alto-Putin...

INCHY: Alto-Putin?

ALTO: Yea… hang on… I’ll be back…

Inchy started to fret a bit while he waited… A sense of his being conned again was growing… rightly so!

ALTO: Hello?

INCHY: Well, what was that about, Alto?

ALTO: He just sent one question for me… You pathetic dummy!

INCHY: Eh? What?

ALTO: Alto-Putin said: “Did Inchy fall for it?” Hahaha!

Inchcock’s Make ’em Laugh Series

Inchcocks Tuesday 31st May 2022 – With Ode

ODE to MEMORIES

♫ Memories are made of this… ♫

Memories I have of sweets costing a farthing!
Getting skin cancer through over-sunbathing,…
I had sex once when I was thirtysomething…
Being six, Mam ran away, and I learnt snogging,
Christine, her name, I was her plaything!

Skidmarks on my unwashed underclothing.
Trying my hand as a pugilist, boxing…
I never won a bout; I was constantly losing…
So tried the sports club amateur wrestling,
Just one fight, it left me frothing and bleeding,

Years later, I tried my hand at WordPressing,
Got dementia. It is very depressing…
Worked in security, tried a spot of sleuthing,
Caught a crook once; he was very scathing,
He was found not guilty; I was seething!

I went undercover pretending to be birdwatching…
Dressed in camouflage, green and brown clothing…
Binoculars to hand, RT and truncheon packing…
Fell out of the tree as I suspect, watching…
Lost my job; it was gutwrenching!

Realising how bad I was at odes & blogging,
When I was getting on a bit, seventysomething,
I had a period of deep thoughts and soulsearching,
Seeking whatever, a reason to carry on trying…
Now I’m approaching the time for dying…
Oddly enough, there’s no crying, just a bit of sighing!

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

TUESDAY 31st MAY 2022

05:10hrs: After yet another horrendous night of shooting awake, nodding off and bursting back into ersatz life, I gave up; I needed a wee-wee, anyway. But that in itself was a nightmare… well, morning mare!

The regular of late, trickling, waiting and whistling, was followed by an even more extended period of dribbling! At least by taking my time and making sure that things had stopped, I avoided any splashing of the furniture, carpet or my body parts.

I started the sphygmomanometerisationing. BP first, with satisfactory results, as you can see here on the left. A smidge high, but nothing compared to many of last week’s figures for the SYS, at 149, DIA 74, and Pulse 78bpm. Very good! The Chinese (Hong Kong) was built by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was still showing low. Compared to the target set by the hospital, of 35°c, at 33.7°c. But no worries!

I made up a waste bag and then went to the wet room to check out the feet and ankles that I found affecting my balance and hurting me a smidgeon.

I dug out yesterday’s photo of the pins to compare it with today’s (top).

Quite a change? The DVT and old ankle blotch had gone all artistic and more pronounced. Which is what the pains did as the day developed. They have not been this bad for months? Then I got the kettle on but didn’t get to make a brew as the innards summoned me back to the wet room.

Once again, the motion was reluctant to start moving. So, I had a go at the crossword book, a different one, as the previous one had got me struggling. Got a couple of answers in, and the sludge started coming! I can’t recall ever having a more gooey sticky, pongy evacuation than this was! Half a new toilet roll later, I started the mammoth task of cleaning up. Had a wash, got dressed, and went back to the kitchenette.

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana, and got some photos uploaded to CorelDraw, then the computer. Got the Monday blog updated; it took me a long time. During which the feet started stinging even when I was sat down. What’s going off down there?

Carer Richard arrived. The lad didn’t look too good. So I launched some humour at him, to which he responded well. As he got the medications to me, the poor chap started sneezing and coughing, and he was sweating so much! Not that that stopped him for long, he even showed me how to get the Grammarly extension, not to give corrections for sentence building. Unfortunately, it stopped Grammarly from working at all! Hehehe! I laughed because we got it back on and laughed about it. (Phew!) Richard didn’t look any better when he departed, but I think he was a little happier. I hope he is not coming down with any illness. Fingers crossed that he’ll be back tomorrow and feeling better. I got the Monday blog post done last, and the Morrison delivery arrived.

The delivery person brought up the flowers first, so he didn’t damage them, and he went down to the other bags; that was kind of him. These are for the Wardens. He fetched the different parcels, and I got them into the kitchen.

Got the things stored away. There is no frozen today; the freezer would struggle to get a biro or single fruit gum in. At least I got some of the battered chips, not the ones I wanted, but the last ones tasted nice enough. They substituted for battered onions with a tray of mashed turnips? Still, they’ll do for me. The bananas almost made me feel guilty! They looked like a set of parents with their children. Alright, so I’m a little weird at times! It has to be admitted, I fear. My travel into loony-land is taking on a little speed lately. Hehehe!

Cleaner Esther arrived. Talking all the time, picking fault with me not getting out for some exercise… then she took the laundry down to get done. I missed most of what she said. But, I did pick up on my ordering too much food. I’ve long stopped bothering to explain things to her. Hehehe!

I took Morrison’s Amazon food delivery wrappers to the waste chute. The fire door was wedged open into and from the flat’s lobby area. Some work of some sort was taking place. The lighting of some sort, I believe.

I limped (the flipping feet are getting even more painful now?) down through the lift lobby and to the waste room door at the end to the left.

I partly trapped my knuckle in the cast iron lid as I shoved the bags into the chute. Nothing new; I’m becoming something of an expert in doing this!

Back to the flat lobby and through into 72 Woodthorpe Court single apartment. Well, I would; I live there. Hahaha! I may be losing it again here?

I got some Facebooking done and the WordPress reading. Later, got the oven warming up for the nosh, specifically the battered chips.

Esther returned with the washing, all done. Oh, the tongue lashing I suffered. I’ve no idea what they were about, mind you. But they flowed at me without relenting or relaxing for a good few minutes. Deafness can have its advantages. Hehe!

I’ll get the meal started, and then, if I don’t fall asleep, try to get the top Ode-making started. Got the beer-battered chips in the oven and got some WordPress comments answered, then went to check the ovens in the chips… or even the chips in the oven.

Enjoyed this plateful immensely. Especially the beer-battered chips. And soft bloomer sliced bread.

A Taste-rating of 8/10 was given. Then, as I had failed to get any desserts with the food order (my fault, Doreen Dementia’s), I guiltily had one of the baby bananas. You can see how small they were here. Tasty lovely. I’m not sure, but I might have heard it crying as I bit into it! Hahaha!

Washed the pots up. And then proceeded to drop the washing-up liquid bottle to the floor via my right toes. What a mess! Got it sorted out and just finished it.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and in came the Evening Carer. Well, Carers, mob-handed. Hehehe! They got the medications sorted, and we had a three-way natter for a couple of minutes, and off they went. Bless ’em.

I got the TV turned on, and there was no reception at all? Mayhaps the electricians, needed to turn off some connection to get done whatever they were doing? So, I put in a Heartbeat DVD to watch. The message came up No DVD inserted! Oh!

I reset the Freeview system. But only a third at most of the channels were loaded, and all West Midlands? So, reset again, picking the ‘All’ option. This time it came up and seemed to be working. But the DVD wasn’t having it! Humph!

I could see the sky’s colour changing through the paper-thin curtains. And nipped out to take a photo of the unique cloud and sky colouring. Not the brightest I’ve seen by a long shot, but I thought it was an awe-inspiring bit of nature.

Fifteen minutes later, the glow of the sun’s setting permeated the room, and I hobbled into the kitchenette. To take this picture. Another masterpiece of nature. I’m so glad I didn’t fall asleep now. But soo regretted thinking this.

The sixth night on the trot of being unable to get to sleep. Couldn’t read a book, thanks to cataracts, glaucoma and saccades. Put the TV on but could not hear it or read the subtitles easily. But kept springing awake again, seemingly every five minutes or so. After perhaps twenty jump-awakes on the 21st, I gave up and rose onto my feet for a wee-wee. It was hard work and well gone midnight before I drifted off…

Morning all!

Inchcock Today: Off to the EENT Hospital

Escape from the flats to the hospital

Got lost twice, forgot I’d got no trousers on… Oh, dearie me!

A Tale of Inchcock’s Day (Five Hours), Out on Tuesday

After another ever-waking-up night’s lack of sleep, I woke and was about to launch into a state of blaspheming Sweet Morpheus’s reluctance to let me stay asleep. Fed-uppedness, niggardlyness, and a smidge of feeling sorry for myself.

But, Dementia Doreen allowed me to remember about the hospital visit today, and the bitterness dissipated, to be replaced by a remarkably determined Inchcock, who set about getting all the things needed for the hospital visit. (Fair enough, he did forget some items, Humph! I felt almost reborn… not the proper terminology, but close.

I waited until it was late enough, and then I decided to get the ablutions done. What a great session! There were only two tiny cuts shaving, one clouting the head against the power box when I bent to retrieve the loofah I’d dropped in the shower. Great! That was it Whoopsie and Accifauxpas wise.

Naturally, something had to go wrong after that wonderful start to the day. Gragnangles! I sorted out suitable things to wear, got the risky job done first, and put the diabetic bamboo socks on. The comfortable-wearing long ones.

But I had to use Sock-Glide-Glenda. True to form, I trapped my fingers twice, the same ones, of course, on each sock. That thick plastic gripper is deadly! I got a welt and a couple of bruises as well. But this did not put me off cause I intended to do my best to get the go-ahead with cataract operations, and after a couple of mild oaths, I carried on and went to gather the other needs of the morning.

Comfortable shoes, trousers, jumper, and the sleeveless jacket with all the pockets in it. It’s lasted a long time this one, I said to myself, as I got the camera (not much chance to use it though, Tsk!) and emptied the pockets to place the needed items for the trip…

Oh, ‘ecky thump! After emptying things out to make room, and started to put the paperwork, keys and the Crossword book in the jacket… They each fell right through and dropped on the floor at my feet! What’s going on here, I muttered! I went into Sherlock Holmesian Mode (I do that sometimes).

  The entire lining had seemed to go rotten! Only one of the twelve pockets was useable! Undeterred, I limped into the hallway to see if those hanging up had fared better. Two of them had not, and they joined the blue one in the extra-large bin bag! Humph! I checked the khaki one’s pockets. All seemed okay, so I swapped the emptied contents in that jacket. Got the PP’s, trousers and best jumper on.

I realised that Carer Richard was due shortly, so I thought I’d better check I’d not left anything on the floor in the hallway for him to trip over; he’s a good lad.

Guess what? In my haste, I stubbed my toe on the towel airer, lost balance, and was entangled with the tipped-over airer and towel on the floor! With new welts on various parts of my knee, head and face! Unglefrogwonglingisations! I later found that I’d broken a tooth as well. My spirits were getting a little lower than they were earlier. Cor, blimey!

I worked on finishing the blog, and the ♫Oh Susana♫ tune belted out from the doorbell. I expected to see Richard come in, but no! Another… I’d not unlocked the door!!! So all that pain and hassle was for nothing! I had left some stuff on the floor on the plus side and was pleased to move them if Richard did a Whoopsie of his own on them.

I went to admit the lad; he was alright about things. He soon got on with the medicationing for me. With a wry smile on his mush at my antics, forgetting to unlock the door, the marks on my face and head etc… We both saw the funny side. Hahaha!

I finished changing and was ready for when the lift arrived to get me to the ophthalmology clinic.

The door chime rang again; the door was unlocked, but whoever it was didn’t come in. It was Josie returning her dish and tray from her Sunday lunch. She did not say she liked it… Oh, dear! At least she didn’t say there was something she didn’t like about it?

The intercom rang and flashed – Aha, it was the ambulance lift. I told the man I’d come down, saving them the bother of coming all the way up then down again.

I made my way out of the apartment and down and out through the main lobby. Two ambulance men? Perhaps they’d heard stories about me? Hahaha!

The journey was uncomfortable, but all of the old ambulances I’ve been in were. So I anticipated it.

When we arrived, friendly and slowly driven, at the Queens Medical Centre, both lads came with me to the ophthalmology department waiting room.

Then took me to the waiting area. I could not hear anything the receptionist said, and one of the men translated for me. I realised then that I’d not put the crossword book in the coat or walker trolley. Shame that, cause it’s the only book I can read the clues on at the moment.

So I sat there, nosing at all around me. Bored rigid! But it didn’t take long for a lovely, attractive young lady to call my name out – but I didn’t hear it at first, and the gal took the bother to come and ask me, Hehe!

She led me to a small room with many machines for an ophthalmology-specific procedure. The blast in the eyes and many tests were patiently done on the beads. Deep family history was gone into, and about an hour later, I was returned to the waiting area to await being called by the Ophthalmologist.

During my wait to be summoned, I learned a lot, such as the lady in a cream coat is having smoked haddock for supper tonight. The man and woman and an elderly pair do not like the TV cookery programmes other than Gordon Ramsay’s. A lady in a uniform but not a nurse or medical one was annoyed when someone phoned her. I could not hear the other natterings, the acoustics are not good in a big hall. Hehe!

The Ophthalmologist lady came for me and led me to an even smaller room this time. Heck of a lot of examining and questions were gone through.

With Peripheral Neuropathy, I had trouble keeping my chin on the plastic thingamabob and had to look up all the time. The lady was not impressed or amused. She had to keep starting whatever she was doing again. I don’t think I was very popular at all. I did explain my conditions when I went in.

The eyes were tested using a log mar chart. In-depth history and current problems with sight. The Doctor knew what she was doing alright, it seemed to me. But I had to keep asking her to repeat things. Very quietly spoken lass.

I guesstimated about an hour later, and she gave me her diagnosis. Cataracts in the right eye only would be done; although you have cataracts in that left eye, they are not as bad as the right one. We’ll see how you are going with it when this operation is done before tackling glaucoma. She will refer me to the surgeon, 12-week an average waiting time.

During my appointment, she’d noticed Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and my right-leg dance. She was concerned because of the delicate nature of the operation. Even seeing in one eye sees is better than none. It can only be done with no movement from the patient at all! This doesn’t bode well! Nevertheless, I was ticked pink at it going ahead.

I was told to go to the main reception to arrange a lift home. I didn’t expect a lift back, so I was even more gee’d up now.  I was feeling perkier now.

But I was soon back in my typical frame of mind, feeling a bit of a fool! I could not remember where the main reception was. I set off, trying to retrace my earlier route in reverse, and ended up in a room that looked like it had many babies all over the place? I withdrew hastily! Found someone to ask where the main eye clinic reception was located. And realised it was one of the receptionists I couldn’t hear talking a few hours ago when I arrived. Hahaha!

Anyway, I found it, and I had the job of hearing what the gal at the counter was saying again. She scowled at me and pointed in the direction of a two-seater settee in the corner near the door. “I’ve to wait there, then?” I think she almost clapped when she realised I’d got the message. She put a thumb up for me! Har-har!

I don’t know how long they were coming, but I was glad they were. When Richard arrived, he was cheerful enough. Then I made yet another cock-up…

By pure luck, I took a right turn and found my way to the outer door, seeing the two men looking for me! I couldn’t keep up with the chap and lost him and my direction again! Now I did feel like a complete idiot!

They got me inside and buckled in and went to get another patient from across the roadway. No problem. While they were out, I got my Canon camera and took some photo’s inside the ambulance. The first one is through the window on the back of the driver’s cab (above). Then one through the top side windows. At least I got a few photographs on my trip out, my escape from the flat.

Finally, one of the side doors and my beloved, makes-me-feel-safe three-wheeler walker. No patient came with them. So we set off for Sherwood and Woodthorpe Court independent living flats!

We were soon back at the flats after a carefully driven journey. The lads refused a treat of the cans in thanks from my bag. Ah, well!

But I wanted to make a start on this blog, which I did. I got in the flat, had a wee-wee, got the kettle on, got my trousers off, cut up, and cubed some potatoes to do in the oven. After an hour or so, the floor chime burst forth again…

To my utter surprise, it was the Evening Carer Nichola… no, sorry, Natalie. My inner clock had gone all pear-shaped with the visit to the clinic. After she’s been here a few minutes, I realised that I had no trousers on!

I apologised hastily when I realised; it must have been a terrible sight for her. We managed a laugh about it, but I felt awful and openly cursed Dementia Doreen! Embarrassment, shame, self-loathing and feeling an almighty, right a proper twit, all flourished!

Worked on this blog. (I did get it finished) I’ll do this in the morning (Now). I was up late, and when I realised it was gone midnight, I was getting fed up with myself.

I concentrated on getting some much-needed food and made myself a quick meal. A can of the wonderful-tasting Morrison’s saver chilli con carnie and some potato cubes did them in the oven, to crisp them a little. A simple and cracking meal! It could have been because I was ravenous and tired and frustrated. I added only liquid salt and a splash of Worcester sauce and vinegar for the potatoes. I gave this effort a mammoth flavour rating of 9.2/10! Really enjoyed it!

The mess that I made making the potatoes, and doing the washing up, soon brought me back down to earth. Hehehe!

Review of the Day – In Odes

Sweet Morpheus didn’t allow me much sleeping…
Throughout the night, I would wake up jumping!
But I did remember, today, the EENT hospital visiting…
The best session for weeks, the ablutioning…
The Porcelain Throne visit was messy and paining…
I forgot to unlock the door; the Carer couldn’t get in…

A stubbed toe fell over the airer, got entangled within,
Sock-Glide-Glenda left me with cuts, bruises, hands and shin!
Emptied my jacket, things fell out, on the floor dropping…
The inner lining had apparently been rotting!

Took me hours to sort another coat out,
And swap things around the pockets…
Got it sorted and dressed to look smart…
Almost forgot to put the drops in the eye sockets…

Then the ambulance arrived, and I was soon in…
Thanks, to them, for to the hospital were driving…
The receptionist, I could not hear talking…
Some advised me of what they were saying…
Then to another waiting room, I was soon going…

First examination in-depth, the lady was engaging…
Back to the waiting room, results awaiting…
Got the okay, then moved to another area of seating…
Had a chat with a lady who was fortysomething…

The second exam, even deeper, by a lady appealing…
Eye drops were applied, and my head was reeling…
Back to the waiting room, I did some earwigging…
Awaiting being called back for assessing…

More tests on a machine and blinking…
I smiled and gave the lady some blinking…
But I didn’t get any return acknowledging…

To the Main Reception, to get a lift home, I was pleased!
But Dementia Doreen sent the memory adrift…
I got lost en route; I panicked and wheezed…
Felt a fool, ashamed and almost had a tift!

Found the reception, a stranger helped translate,
Sit in that chair (pointing) and for your transport wait…
So I did and didn’t have long to wait…
A driver came, said, follow me, mate…

I tried to follow him, but he walking relatively swift…
Chasing after him gave me a glift, boy, could he shift…
I lost him and got a bit miffed…
Panicked a bit and gave a little snift…
But found him outside, looking a bit squiffed…

Got home and lost all sense of timing…
The mind felt like it was abseiling…
Took my clothes off, nice and cooling,
Started with the day’s blogging…
Along came the evening Carer; I was welcoming…
Until I realised I had no trousers on, and started scaring!
Felt like an idiot, started self-caterwauling,
Embarrassed, ashamed, frustrating!

Well gone midnight got some nosh cooking,
Canned chill and potatoes, no casseroling,
Then turned my attention to sleeping…
Dreamed about Jillie and me, canoodling…
I think I started sweating and drooling…
A mortifyingly humiliating day, disconcerting!

The Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe

Inchcock Today: Monday 2nd May 2022

INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 2nd May 2022

Hehehe! Managed to get some photos loaded at last! Of course, remember which was taken when and why… will primarily be up to Doreen Dementia. So it’s likely to have a bit of guesstimating.

This would have been taken somewhere around, or close to Friday, or maybe Saturday morning. I’d guesstimate, judging by the sun’s placement, coming from the rear of the flats, leaving a shadow, about 07:00hrs?

Possibly Friday evening’s meal. I remember making this little feast because it was the first time I tried those savoury fries. They were delivered on Friday (I think)… see that? I can sometimes remember things, and others not! The sourdough veggie-beef sarnies were lovely; the gherkins and tomatoes went down well with some butter. The fries were a little disappointing; not a lot of taste. A strawberry cheesecake and mini cake rounded things off nicely. Flavour-Rating 7/10.

On Saturday (Mayhaps), the blood pressure was one of the best ever! The SYS at 128. DIA 65, the pulse is low, but not enough for any concern, at 75. The wee-weeing had eased off a little as well.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) was made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer came up trumps; with a temperature of35.3°c. The highest it’s been for many a month!

I found some strange botches on the legs when it came to doing the Phorpain Gelling on Saturday (?).

Of course, nothing new, but the legs have been so good for so long that I was surprised at this. Whatever they were, the purple patches appeared to be pretty fresh.

However, the normal state of the leg veins, with the superficial venous thrombosis (phlebitis), chronic venous insufficiency (CVI), iliac veins, femoral vein, saphenous vein, and popliteal veins, just seem to have disappeared under the folds of flesh? The tibial veins could not even be seen? Mind you, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Glenda and Saccades Sandra, might be affecting my vision, I suppose.

I had a treat on Saturday; oh, yes, I did! I made some of the cheesy baked potatoes, the first I’ve made in a long time. It could, well should have been a higher score, but I overdid the buttering, which marred things. Taste Rating 8.5/10.

And with no stab wounds, cuts or injuries at all! I saved three halves of the delicious but over cheesy buttered potatoes for supper! Mmm! And boy, was I glad I did later on when I warmed them in the microwave…

Then I decided I’d make some more on Sunday, with the last Leicester cheese.

I was on the verge of going into a Smug-Mode… and I made a mess of bending down to pick up some cutlery I’d dropped while doing the washing up. I tumble forwards, banging into the fridge-freezer, and the pots and jars on top of it came tumbling down, as the machine quaked with having my flabby weight hit it! So I had to rewash them as well! Humph!

Hey-Ho! Serves me right! Since then, I’ve had a nagging discomfort in the lower back.

Getting settled for the night, I decided to look at the end car park from the balcony, and I took this picture on the left. Hehehe! Red-Van-Man’s lousy parking is getting to the other tenants now.

The evening Carer was Cheeky Charlie (If I recall correctly). Always pleased to see her, and she gives me a little natter each time, Bless her! ♥

The evening’s kip was full of waking ups with a jump. At least I did get off to kip pretty soon, though, so I shouldn’t complain too much. IT felt terrible on Sunday morning, though, as if I’d not had any time with Sweet Morpheus!

All went well. Only two nicks shaving!

Ah, much better this time; I reckon that Trotsky Terence is losing his grip on the innards, at last. A bit messy, so cleaning and sanitising were needed after the evacuation.

Colin Cramps gave me a right nasty pasting in the left foot as I came out into the kitchen! I took a snap of it; you can clearly see Colin’s grip on the toes? Huh! He doesn’t often attack during the day. He does every night, in the legs, feet, toes, hands or wrist, so often I rarely mention it nowadays; just take it as usual.

I started to prep Josies chilli-con-carne. Chilli, Light soy sauce, sea salt, chilli and salt mixture and beef seasoning. Then went on the computer for about three hours and forgot all bout it on the hob! I chopped the leeks and mushrooms, ready to go in later, got the beans and meat in the saucepan on low light, and added her favourite seasoning.

The meal was ruined, and I had a job to salvage the saucepan to use again! It took ages to get things sorted, and then I had to start again from the beginning!

I felt like a right idiot! Tosspot! Still, Doreen’s Dementia will not be denied. All I could do was pretend I wasn’t bothered, hoping that she could tell, and it pissed her off a bit, too!

What seemed like a month later, I’d got the second Sunday nosh sorted, put it for Josie and got it on the tray with the usual selection of nibbles and treats for her. At least it tasted good… well, to me anyway. I delivered it at the regular time to Josie’s door, 12:00hrs. To my surprise, she said she didn’t expect it with it being Bank Holiday. Doreen seems to have got us both in her grip… Hahaha! I’ve never failed to deliver her meal, whatever Sunday it was.

Although I tell a fib there. I did deliver it on a Saturday a couple of weeks ago when Doreen had convinced me it was Sunday. Hehe! I like doing it for her, it is getting harder, but I’ve no intention of stopping yet! IT WAS MISSED when I had the stroke, but as soon as I got back to the flat, it was served up every Sunday again.

Oh, heck, I’m back in the high red zone again! SYS at 161, DIA 69, and the pulse at 75. The body temperature thermometer recorded a decent 34.0°c. I’ve had worse, a lot worse. It’s the past four all being so low that caught me out.

I served up my planned cheesy baked spuds with some crispy onions. By gum, did I enjoy them… yes I did! Hehe! I didn’t overdo the butter this time, and they were much better than yesterday’s tasted. Flavour Rating: 8.9/10!

Monday: The sleep was even worse than Saturday night was! I just could not nod off! Turned the lights off, lulled the bobble-hat over my eyes, and fought with the Thought Storms… all to no avail! So I put the TV on if I want to watch something that can sometimes help me sleep.

But not last night. I found a film that I fancied watching, with Will Smith and Geoff Goldblume, and I watched it all the way through, over two hours! I was telling Carer Richard about it, he didn’t have much time cause he had another call to make. He told me it was Independence Day, as I could not remember. Sad, innit?

Grobbleknob and Knackleboings! I can’t win with these flipping Blood Test thingamajigs! SYS is even higher now than it was Sat and Sunday.

I wonder why this is? There will be a reason. Bound to be… However, this has often happened before. Last time it shot up for two days, then suddenly dropped?

I took another snap of the end car park at the end of Chestnut Way. Haha! I can’t tell if Red-Van-Man had moved, but the imitators, three of them, are getting scared of the white lines.

An odd occurrence with the waste bin near the computer desk. I threw away a used tissue, and it bounced right out from the bottom of the container? I had to get down on my knees to retrieve it from under the c1963 cabinet. I did so with only discomfort, no pain. Casually threw the tissue back in the waste bin, and… bugger me, it did it again! Another ferret under the wood had to use the picker-upperer this time to reach it, and to avoid everything odd that happens three times in a row scenario, I took it to the kitchenette bin. All part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? Hahaha!

I took a snap through the part open balcony door. It looked nothing like this picture came out. Another mystery?

No, I doubt it. Probably due to the eye problems and, of course, my life-long struggle with achromatopsia,

The evening Carer should be here soon; time to get something to eat.

Here it is. A flavour rating of 7/10 was given. I soon got gesticulating and ate it all up.

Then the problem of getting to sleep was tackled. I had to put the TV on, which worked; I nodded off at the first set of commercials. But the springing awake with an annoying body and mind jerking jump began, repeatedly. No thought storms, though?

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock’s Diary & Retrieved Photographs

Inchcock’s Diary & Retrieved Photographs

Four days without being able to upload any pictures, again,
Frustrating, annoying and a bit of a pain!
I tried this morning once again…
Some of them loaded; how transpadane!
I hope the uploading thingumajig working does remain…
Or I’ll go out of my tiny dementia-ridden brain!

Still, here they are, with details that I can remember,
Dates, days and times; may be subject to conjecturer…
But I’ve done my bestest; I can’t be any fairer…
The memory is not so good and tends to flounder…
Thanks to the stroke, then Doreen Dementia!

Overnight I had youths intruding into the flat,
Not just once, but twice, not very nice!
That got me worried, I can tell yer that!
Youths, two to four of them, to be unprecise!

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

Photo’s Rescued

Evening (well, I think these three are?), photographicalisations are. All three were taken within a few minutes, if I recall right, from the kitchenette window, on a patchy dark cloud-covered sky. What day ut was, I’m not sure.

A beautiful view, even if the wind was a bit nippy as I opened the window and shuddered a little. Hehe!

I managed to take a closer shot that didn’t come out too bad when you consider the weather, clouds and my shaking right hand & arm.

I think these were taken on Wednesday. I can recall being impressed. But not with my photography, but with Mother Nature producing such amazing sights for us all.

I think I took this second shot because I’d got a small red spot blotch on the first one?

Then I took the third one, with more of the land view shown.

I’ve just noticed that I got an even bigger res spot on this one at the bottom of the frame. Tsk! I got pains in cataracts taking this last one; I can member that bit! It was half an hour or so before they eased off. Humph!

One of the evening meals here. I tried to recall if I liked or enjoyed it… But no! I can’t even remember eating it or taking a photograph either. It looked decent enough. I think I liked it?

Ah, this was Thursday… or was it? I ordered this food from Morrisons via Amazon. I’ve just looked it up on the email; it was on Saturday, the delivery.  Amazing how Dementia Doreen can convince me of facts that are so wrong.

Battered haddock, fishcakes, imitation fish sticks, Leicester grated cheese, mushroom pate, and pots of lemon cheesecake. With, commoners treat like from years ago, jelly and custard. I like ’em! Common and I go together!

Tomatoes, tomato puree with basil, Milk roll bread, Hovis white crusty bread, cakes, and cleaners.

I do not intend to hide my shame at all those cakes. But it didn’t last for long! Guilt flows freely in the brain, and intentions to start slimming crept into the equation…

After the Carer called and I collected the washing, I pondered on what to have to eat. And decided that I’d press on with the blogging and eat later on. The awful idea I had, was to have two slices of the Hovis bread, each with half of the mushroom pate, buttered and the slice of bread folded over the pate. With some tomatoes and nothing else. We’ll see about that…

I went into the kitchen to make sure I had some butter in the fridge to use, and the view caught all of my attention! Buy, was it a fantastic view, or what?

Wonderful! I stood looking at it for ages, as it quickly turned into darkness as the sun disappeared. 

I came across this ‘Gannet-sized’ picture of an earlier in the week meal I’d devoured. I reckon on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday?

Sundays nosh. I believe.

I soon gave up on computing and got down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, in search of sleep.

A close-up photograph of the Chestnut Walk’s end car parking antics and positioning. Why do they spend all that money on chevrons and signage if they are enforceable by law? There are consistent; you have to give that to them.

Inchcock’s family early morning get together and chinwagging session. Koala Katie, Teddy Bear & Lil the Lamb were in a talkative mood. You think I’m joking, don’t you? Haha!

 The clunk-clunking started from above. Even Duodenal Donald started to give me some gip! And he’s been as good as gold for weeks!

Within an hour, I’d taken Peptac, used Germoloid, Germolene and taken an extra Codeine Phosphate. What next, I thought? I soon found out!.

I felt the wet warm glow from Little Inchies Lesion bleeding! Got back up to clean and medicate things, then back into the pretend recliner… still in search of some time with Sweet Morpheus! As I tried to get settled, comfortable enough to get into the land of nod…

I nodded off soon enough, waking up two uninterrupted hours of rest later, and felt a lot betterer! So much so, I freed my scarily overweight body from the chair and went to make the planned earlier meal!

Taste Rating: 9.15/10!

Sat I think: I took this photo before tucking into the feast! The thick slices of bread were soft, the crusts crusty. The tomatoes were delicious for once. Wunderbar! And the meal was so easy to prepare!

Back to the present: Unfortunately, getting back to sleep was impossible. The Thought-Storms raged! Guilt, shame and frustrations flowed!

 I was soon back up, needing the Porcelain Throne! But it went well. not messy, and no bleeding from anywhere!

I stayed up and made a start on this blog. Then had a meal

The highlight of this Saturday is that Jillie is calling to see me, I hope. 💜 Which she did! Lovely to see her, hug her, kiss her and have a mammoth chinwagging session!

Jillie brought me some Polish cooked meats. Bless her cotton socks! She checked on the dates and timings for the hospital visit for me. And offered help with cancelling the Meridian laundry service. I’m better off with Esther doing it, she irons anything that needs it when it gets back, and the clothes are properly dry and folded for me. This week Carer Valerie did the washing, returned it the same day (sometimes it is three days before it gets back from Meridian), and all was well dried and folded, but this is not the normal state of affairs. Thanks, Valerie.

Getting to sleep was impossible! The excitement of seeing Jillie, I believe, may have had some effect?

The door buzzer woke me up; in a half-daze and unsure of what time it was, I got to the door… After many hours of trying, I did nod off.

Josie told me her sister was taking her out for a meal tomorrow, so she would not need a meal cooking this Sunday. Good of her to let me know, Bless her.

I gave myself a toe-stubbing against the stand-up airer radiator hobbling back. Oh, dearie me! 

Mage some of the small milk roll bread, buttered sarnies with the bacon that Jillie had bought me. It was delicious! A hint of garlic and herbs, Bootiful! Not as beautiful a Jillie, though, naturally. ♥

Alphabetti potatoes, tomatoes, a small lemon cheesecake, and lemon curd tart for afters. I think I’m cutting back on my food intake, and am going to start the bi-daily exercise as we did in the after-stroke recovery programme… well, all being well. I’ve just got to have a word or two with Dementia Doreen, Cataracts Kathleen, Arthur Itis, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and Duodenal Donald, t see if they will allow me to do so, uninjured. Hahaha!

I’m a little apprehensive and twitchy now, about the yobs. I bet they’ll be back again tonight… Clapthunder! If they do come, I’ll press my wristlet alert alarm. Even if I can’t make out what they are saying, they should hear me.

As I lay there fretting, I passed wind and made a mess in the Protection Pants to make things worse! Good job that I’ve got plenty in stock. Cause this happened again later! Trotsky Terence was in charge.

The evacuation started and ended before I got down onto the plastic seat! Virtually liquid. What few shreds of solids were a khaki colour, with yellow liquid. The stomach ached and was rumbling throughout. What had I eaten that could have caused this?

I washed, shaved, the teeth were done, olive oiled the ears, Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and put the eye drops in (some of the drops actually getting into the eyes!). New PP’s adorned. Changed into the day clothes, and I put the kettle on. Took a Galpharm capsule and a Co-codamol for the tummy pains.

Later on Sunday, I worked on this blog; then, the Morning Carer arrived and sorted the medications for me.

I tried to find the number to report the incidents to Nottingham City Homes, but the number was only for Mon to Friday. I mentioned this worry, on the Winwood Heights Facebook page, hoping there may be another number to use. No answer, but it’s only 10:30hrs yet.

Winwood Heights Facebook Comments: Tenant Hugh tried to find the number for me. Later in the day, Warden Deana wrote, suggesting I press the alarm-alert button and told them of the situation. But, of course, I could not understand what anyone at the other end of the call was saying. Folks forget about my cataracts, deafness and dementia. Even when I mentioned the incident to my Carer, it was suggested that I may have dreamed it? But I didn’t… did I?

I was still unsure of whether to lock the door or not. Leave it unlocked, and the gang of yobs could get in again, cause harm and damage, and steal summat… Lock it, have a stroke, and the ambulance men can’t get in, and I’m dead… I don’t think anyone understands my indecision and fears. I chose to lock it. An hour later, I thought better of it and unlocked it. Two hours later, I locked the door again, which is how it is at writing this now.

Evening Ode to the day

The ganglet of yobs invaded my recluse…
In the early hours of the morning…
Got me rattled and aroused!
They arrived without any warning…
In they came, I put the light on, cunning?
No wonder I was confused…
They suddenly started running?
Else I may have got battered and bruised?
Will they return tonight?
Ready for a one-sided fight?
Will I get thrashed?
Or end up bucktoothed?
I’m not worried… well, not quite…

Evening All!