Inchcocks Diary (Curtailed), for Fri-Saturday

First, a few words to explain why this blog is as pathetic as it is

❶ I’ve lost so much time with Liberty-Global Virgin Media going down, I lost count of how many times in the last two days!

❷ Then, today (Saturday), Facebook started doing the same thing!

❸ I took a tumble on Friday, which left me with the shakes.

❹ The eyes seem worse today; it’s a struggle.

❺ Shaking, Shaun returned.

❻ Eyesight still poor

FRIDAY 20th MAY

Good morning; I didn’t do this blog until Saturday evening. There are very few memory notes on the pad and not many photos to help the grey cells out. Facebook was going off again so often, and Liberty-Global – Virgin Media. So this is not going to be very erudite… not that it ever was. There will no doubt be some guesstimating and missed events.

Up at 01:30hrs to get the previous day’s blog completed. WP Reading. Comments, and I pressed on for hours to get the blog done and posted. Facebooked until it, and Liberty-Global Virgin was going down so often, I gave up. Try to catch up later.

Carer Valerie called, and I had the shakes at the time, which worried her a bit; bless her. I was still a bit unsteady when the Morrison delivery arrived, but when he left the packages in the doorway and had scooted, I started to come round nicely. I took some photos while I got the things away.

Still, the fridge didn’t look overfull to me? Could it be the eyes? Or a ghost coming into the flat and eating my stuff while I slept? I put it down to the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, or ectoplasms, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I sorted things out but could sense, no idea how, but this happens sometimes, a feeling that either an involuntary right-leg, Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was on the way and building up in preparation. It was a tingling sensation up and down my right side, where the stroke affected me. Huh! I decided to take as much care as possible to ensure there would be no ending up on the floor again today!

Herbert kicked off with the clattering, seemingly forever dropping things, drills, hammers, and meal boxes… Humph!

Arrived, I was not too good, and she noticed it. Said I was looking sweaty and pale, bless her.

Ablutions, then blogging away, making little progress. The computer went off again, so I made a meal; I can’t really remember if it was this one or not.

I recall going in the wet room, but I must have had a funny turn cause if I’d worked it out right, I was in there for an hour or maybe fell asleep on the Throne?

I had no idea who the evening caller was; I wasn’t even sure one had called… no… one did… I reckon. Shakes bad.

At it again. Clunk-thudding it.

Ah, I think it was Carer Cheeky Charlie who called on me, but… maybe not.

Got to sleep easier tonight, but the jumping awake was annoying.

SATURDAY 21st MAY

Gave up trying to sleep and rose around 01:30hrs.

Worked on blogging, no washing. Did my best.

Serene Sarah, I’m sure. Or Cheeky Charlie, was it? Both are lovely gals.

After she’d gone, I went to use the Throne. I was doing alright, had a wash while in the wet room, and as I turned towards the door, I had an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance! I hit the wall and slid to the floor, and made a bruising contact with the floor in no time! It had to come; I expected this yesterday. Minutes afterwards, the lower back pain started and still has not stopped. I’ll see it goes, but I may call the NHS 111 number if I am forced to seek assistance. I won’t do it now cause the pain may ease off as time goes on. I’m such a hero… Hehehe! I’ve been a little wobbly on the legs since the Accifauxpas.

I’ve been a bit unlucky this week. The 40 bus did not stop to pick us up at the bus stop. The tumbles and knocks this week. Walked into doorframes, dropped a bowl of potatoes and cheese, burnt my hand, and slipped off of kerb hobbling up Winchester Street… so, everything is normal there then.

At it again. Clunk-thudding.

The Carer is due anytime now. Got a wash and got into the jammies. Then remembered the potatoes I’d put in the slow-cooker 13 hours ago… Mild Panic Mode Engaged, and shot off to check on things in the kitchen…

As I was getting them out of the pot with tongues, I got a hickey as I caught my little finger in the gripper. Oh, heckithump! Not only were they too soft, each one had blackies on the inside when I sliced them, So they are even looser now.

Carer Valerie arrived and asked me if I needed any help with the spuds. I declined her offer but thanked her. She got the tablets given to me and went on her way, taking the waste bags with her. ♥

I got back to the now lesser-blackeyed potatoes I’d sliced, and put them in the oven, to hopefully crisp them up a smidge. Got some tomatoes o the plate ready and two slices of imitation pork. But…

I cast my mind back to when I had to cook and clean for Dad. I’d got no bread, well I had, but it was in the freezer. So I got a few slices out, put them in an empty saucepan with the garden peas, and hoped they would thaw out before I needed them. No freeze, no fridge, no hot water other than what we boiled on the fire and stove, and no electricity (but we did get it later). Easy peasy when we got DC electricity fitted, gone were the candles… and damned good riddance! How the hell did I manage?

I checked on the potatoes, now sliced and in the oven. The sun was beginning to go down, and I took a few minutes pareidoliaing at the cloud formations. II thought I saw a mouth and lips or an imitation black hole that was white. Hehehe!

Got the fodder served up. The slow cooker and sliced and oven-baked potatoes were terrible, possibly my worst effort in years. But everything else was fine and tasty. Taste: 6.5/10.

Off for a wee-wee and had another figure-finding session at the kitchenette window’s clouds. Sadly, no pictures or visions were seen in the clouds this time. Although looking at them now (Sunday morning), I think I spot a monster in there flying?

As I searched for Sweet Morpheus, Herbert gave me a last short mechanical serenade with a whirling, whining sound to round off, decrescendo style. Possibly, an underpowered drill chugging? I mentally wished the aloof Laodicean a good night.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Today: Monday 16th May 2022

Monday, 16th May 2022

I was hoping for a better day!

Things stirred back to reality at 05:25hrs, after 6 hours of sleep and various periods of jumping awake. Making a total time being awake of two hours. Does that make sense? Sorry if not.

According to the best I can make out from the scribbled memory notes, the next occurrence was; P.Tarone Enight? Beats me!

I rose like a tried elephant from the c1968 second-hand recliner, grabbed walking stick Metal Mickey, and went to the wet room to get the Ablutions done.

But my dithering nature interfered, and I took the waste bin out of the wet room, emptied the others and made up some waste bags. Took them to the flat door.

It was drizzling outside, and as I put the kettle on, I took a photo of the road to the left of the kitchenette window. Plenty of trees on it get fresh air.

It’s no wonder I’ve never seen a for sale sign on the beautiful looking Cavendish Vale.

The skies were, I thought, ripe for a few minutes of pareidolia. I’m keen on finding figures in the clouds. But on this occasion, I failed to find any. Humph!

Well, apophenia, finding figures in anything, creases, reflections, cracks in floor tiles, and bulging veins. I’m experienced in that one, having more bulging veins than most people.

I made the tea, went to put the milk in, but diverted back to getting the ablutioning done.

Well, once again, it was a fair session. Fair enough, a few teeny-weeny cuts shaving, but no knocks and bangs, dizzies, toe-stubbings or tumbles. I didn’t engage the Smug-Mode… it’s early yet.

I even got out through the door without any shoulder-charging of the frame… Yes, go on then;

Got the laundry bag sorted. Made another mug of tea for the one I let go cold, and Dizzy Dennis gave me a few moments of concern… only a  short bout, maybe a minute at most. But it had me holding on to the stick and hastening to sit down. But Dennis disappeared, and I was fine when I stood up? There are no messages from EQ, but I think it may be another semi-harrowing day, somehow? 

Sunday’s photograph of the messy mud-slide onto the end car park on Chestnut Way. It has been known for Cataract Kathleen to do this to me! I hope I’ve not put this one on before?

This is this morning’s shot of the same area. I found some more of the indecipherable scrawl on the memory pad here, not the foggiest of what it meant. Try as I did, it remains a mystery,

A sudden robust rumbling from the innards!  I was all but too late, getting to the Throne in time in seconds. Trotsky Terence controlled the evacuation. Gawdawfull messy it was! Had to change the PPs (Protection Pants) I’d put on an hour ago! Ah, well, I got everything cleaned up.

Richard arrived late; he’d had a lousy shift, I think. The poor lad looked done in. He still had a look at the SD card for me. Putting it in and out to see if anything changed; and found that the card had split! He took the waste bags out with him for me, with my thanks.

I hope the new card works in the Canon and the reader accepts it. Praying here! I opened the card, full of hope and cut my finger on the plastic! Got it fitted in the camera (not the finger, the SD card), and I tried taking shots that I did yesterday to use here and test the system. Good heavens, it worked! So, I engaged in the use of the, with reservations. As you can see here, it worked.

Outside my Winwood Heights Independent Living block of flats, I hobbled out onto the balcony to look at what was. Conducted my Blood Pressure and temperature checks. SYS 154, DIA 68, Pulse 78, and the body temperature was a decent 34.1°c.

A couple of miles away, I took a zoomed-in shot of HMP, her Majesties Nottingham Prison. And thoughts and questions permeated through… “I bet they can see their prison Doctor or Dentist at any time?”, “They’ll get their cataracts done quicker than I get mine!” “They are not worried about the rent, electricity, food, transport, bus fares, etc. going up?” “Most likely, get their free computers mended for free!” They’ll not worry about forgetting to lock their doors either! Hahaha!

Gawd, he’s been at it again, almost one-stop since morning. Bang, tap-tap, scrape, thud, boing… I did not retaliate. After all, what is the point in haggling with the self-centred, impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, and ineffable, cruel, unsympathetic, toffee-nosed, self-important, nyaff, noisy nasty man?
As luck has it, I like him.

Far too ridiculously late, I made a start on this blog. Of course, something had to go wrong…

Am I the luckiest person on earth, I asked myself?

Of course not!

That honour must go to Steve Fries, the bigwig of Liberty Global, Whose inability to send an uninterrupted internet signal to Nottingham earns him $23 million a year!

Jealous? Me? Yes!

Miraculously, it was only down for a minute or so this time; I felt almost happy about it! Temporarily!

I thought I’d better check to see if any messages or missed calls had been received while I was so busy being mucked about my Herbert and Fries. Still, Herbert entertained me with some clattering-about sounds.

Could I find the phone? No! There was worry but no panic initially. All I had to do, was go through all of my jackets and trousers that I’d worn since I last used the mobile phone (whenever that was). I vaguely remember putting it in a pocket and saying, “Don’t forget that it’s in that pocket!”

Within about ten minutes, I settled for Thursday, when the foot lady texted me telling me I was late for my appointment again… that was in the brain box! I engaged my Sherlock Holmesian Methodology, and first, I worked out when I last went out. Now, what was I wearing? Maroon jacket? Blur jacket? Black trousers, or green trousers? Was I wearing my trousers – nobody said anything.

After a heated discussion with myself, I narrowed it down to the green or black trousers; and the red or blue jacket, all of which were in the laundry bag. Then thought, aha! (I do that sometimes), It might be in the pyjama bottoms, two pairs of them in the laundry. I almost felt confident as I went into the back room to search for the clothing in the bag… I should have known better at my age and after many years of failed memory training!

Well, now I was getting hot under the collar! I smugly checked through every pocket and the bag… not sausage in there. (Not that I was after one, of course, a figure of speech and all that).

A lengthy search in each room and all the clothes hanging up in the front room and the hallway proved a failure, with no mobile to be seen. Of course, if I knew my mobile number, I could ring it and hope I heard it to locate it. Although if it was in a pocket, as I still believed it was, I might not hear it anyway… I rang the desktop dancer and Warden Deana to ask if she could ring the mobile for me, but to was engaged… oh, that reminds me; she is six weeks away from getting married; bless her, and a lucky fellow too… I digress again, sorry. I do tend to do that a lot.

I rummaged, rooted and ferreted about, delving into the most unlikely of places, all to no avail. Then a spark in the brain suggested that it may have fallen and gone underneath the cabinet or recliner? Worth a look, so I did…

I got the torch and was leaning on the arm of the recliner to get low enough to check the sides, with my intentions bravely being, if no success, to get on my knees to look under the chair. But as I was leaning forward and on my left leg – perfect timing from the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, who gave me a flailing right leg out of control dance… Which naturally had me on the floor in seconds. The spectacles are now in a precariously loose state of repair. Also, I’ve got two newly bruised knees and a red cheek from hitting the arm on the way down!

As I was recovering and considering how to get back up on my feet, Deana came in at just the perfect time! She got me up, made sure things still worked with the legs, and laughed at the (at the time unknown to me) red patch on the cheek that looked like a clown’s make-up! Hahaha! Not really, but she should have.

Deana rang my mobile. I couldn’t hear it. But she found it, under the cover on the back of the computer chair… in a jacket pocket! I am totally losing it, and a twit!

Well, worra day! Again! It’s nearly 1700hrs now, so sleep looks like being late tonight. This blog is not halfway through yet! I pressed on with it like a mini but fat hero, determined to get it up to date…

♫Oh, Susana♫ rang out. I hobbled to the door (It was a pronounced hobble, the right knee was in some pain, Tsk!) and found Josie returning the jar that held the two meals for yesterday. Bless her, I could not hear what she was saying, but plashed a smile, mentioning Betty Bunter, bless her.

Arrived, soon sorted. Then, I had a go at catching up on Facebooking. Then comments on WordPress.

Got the nosh started. It is now passed 21:00hrs. It’s been another gruelling day. I caught my hand on the oven dish as I took it out of the oven. I believe I said, “Bother!”

Veggie burger, fries, tomatoes and some sugar snap crap Ecuadorian peas. I realised a small stale cake and an out-of-date, but I could not see the date, and tasting it realised it was rancid. The banana was okay, though. However, despite these minor upsets, the flavour rating given was 6.5/10.

Had a wash, and when I came out to do the pot washing, the great sky looked to me just like an oil or water painting.

I took my time taking the last photo, as it was zoomed-in and getting the Canon camera to hold steady enough for a decent shot was not easy. I probably had to take six or seven tries to get this last one, which is not very good. But retains something about it that I like.

I deleted the old snaps on the new SD card. Thinking it would be less confusing for Kathleen’s Cataracts, Doreen’s Dementia and me. But no, I only deleted two that had not been put on the computer yet! Hehe!

Getting to sleep was nigh on impossible; well, it was. The Thought Storms rampaging through the brain, self-hatred, shame, fear… I was in the right state. It’d been a messy day, but why this? I put the TV on, but that didn’t send me off. Utter worn-outedness did it in the end, around about 02:30hrs!

Still, yers don’t like to complain, does yer?

Alto-Inchies Ode on Inchcock

I’ve been a bit worried about Inchcock for many a day,
His brain has been loaded with worries & clamjamfry…
Doreen’s Dementia is getting more and more on display!
His memory is shot to pieces, bar some bits of scintillae,
He’s had two falls, one on Sunday, another on Monday,
His outlook, ideas and hopes become anachronistically…
If they come at all, his writing is full of godwottery!

But it wouldn’t help if he won the lottery…
He’s lost interest in anything financially…
His nest egg dwindling, becoming almost eleemosynary,
Worried over increases, rent, care, food, even his tea!
Electricity, travel, all risen in price, becoming too costly…
Will he get through it? There’s no guarantee…
If he tops hissen, what’ll happen to me?

Alto-Egos don’t always have it this easy,
Dominating Inchcock has been easy peasy!
Where will they move me? What human will I accrue?
Putin? His Alto-Ego could resign, but will he do?
I’d like to get at a human that’s evil, bloodthirsty!
For I fear I’ll get another docile twit like Inchie.

Written to create a laugh and or smile!

Inchies Tips & Advice for Whippersnappers, Ablutionalisationings & Medicalisationings

ADVICE & TIPS ON FUTURE AILMENTS TO COME

I’ve given myself a challenge here… Where do I start?
Well, I don’t want to sound like a worrywart…
But you may like to put this guide on a wall chart,
Get prepared, to wee-wee, bleed a lot, and fart?
To the wet room, with ablutionalisationing, we’ll start…

Well, getting your clothes on and off, will be a work of art!
The socks removal will hurt in every leg part!
Pants and PPs, shirt and hat off, you’ll be knackered,
By the time you start teeth cleaning, paddy-whacked!
Then the toothpaste to extract…
Peripheral Pete causing shaking hands, distances inexact…
Toothpaste on your chin belly and feet… it’s a fact!

Nasal clearing, avoid catching the new pustulation…
And shaking hands, need careful manipulation…
Stabbing up the nose can cause a concussion!
Due to the dying nerve-ends neurotransmission!

Then the eyedrops, they miss each time, despite my best attention,
Evolve drips anywhere but the eyes; to the mouth, via obambulation,
Oh, while I think about it, you’ll have to have a fundoplication!
Shaving’s the next job, which always causes apprehension!

You’ll cut yourself several times, no need for overreaction…
The Brut aftershave serves as a blood stopper medication!
Mind you, it stings, you’ll swear in protestation,
It’s just another necessary daily ritualisation!

Then comes, the dangerous part, of showering!
It’s no good fearing, and cowering…
It must be done, like an everyday thing!
Dizzy Dennis arrives, you stop the soaping…
Then drop the loofah, bend in retrieving…
Hit your bonce on the powerbox, your heads now reeling…
Loss of balance sometimes, a usual old folk feeling…
Then you often find yourself falling…
But getting back up is more appalling and galling,
Usually, you’ll drop things again…
But, to avoid any more pain,
You’ll kick it away, then you may start talcing?
Till you stub your toe, then start cursing!
But there are more things yet, that will be paining!

No mirrors in the wet room, I mention tactfully,
For fear, you’ll see your flabby midriff’s rotundity,
Which will bring on the depression, for a certainty,
You’ll find spotting your reflection, rather dismally,

Little Inchies Fungal Lesion will need ointmenting,
Especially if it’s been leaking and bleeding!
The certainty of agony needs acknowledging…
Some think this procedure, is bestiality, brutality…
I can tell yer, I don’t think about affectionately!
And I don’t tackle the job exactly bravely!

Arthur Itis knees to be Phorpained, to lessen rheumatically,
An easy enough task, although the limbs can get greasy…
It’s the Phorpain Gel, the box says it’s liable to flammability?
Still, a good massage and rubbing in seems to work easily.

MedPhorpain

The Germoloiding of Harold’s Haemorrhoids is a pleasure,
Always effective, instant relief, this ointment is a treasure!
But you can’t buy it when on a Special Offer…
Full price, cause the makers, want to fill their coffer…

You’ll be able to get a cream on the NHS, Anusol, but it’s crap,
And you’ll need to wear sunglasses and a hat…
Use walking aids, hearing aids, spectacles, blind as a bat!
Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades will be begat!
I’m getting mixed up here, where was I at?

I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
As you grow decrepit and old, it’s the truth!
There is no way to make things accident-proof…

I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
There is no to make things foolproof…

But there is a way, to ease them and help make them better!
You don’t believe me? I can hear you mutter!
But clean the wound, Give it a Germolene smother…
As antiseptics go, there is none betterer…
It soothes and cools wounds with no palaver…
Keep a tube in the first aid box, it’s a good manoeuvre!

You’ll lose any skill you had at handcraftsmanship,
Sewing, darning, woodwork, sculpting, or need a replacement hip,
A new knee or two, a mechanical ticker, ready for the crypt…
So when things start to fail and collapse, don’t lose your grip!.

Don’t look back at the days when you were nonhandicapped!
Or even when you could risk being back slapped,
Or when you were capable of being able and schlepped…
It’s important for you to be able to adapt!

You’ll only compare things, with now and then,
Your mental and bodily decline, remembering girls like Gretchen?
Your confidence, comparative memories, do not enrichen!
In fact, they have been known to bring on depression!
Recalling the romances, victories, how many were they, ten?
Your first fumbling grope – can you remember who and when?
The Auntie who always bathed you… you were happy then!
But such days will never return again…
Have you still got love letters, written with a pen?
The name of your very first kitten?
Or the first dog by which you were bitten?

When your life was considered to be sublime, Utopian…
Some details will be embedded in your brain, unforgotten…
But many of them inspire things you think were rotten!
Actions and decisions that were taken by you; were you forgiven?
Or like me; having Thought Storms of guilt and derision?

There is an ailment that can free you from making many a decision…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, she’s good at memory suppression,
Also, she jumbles up numbers and dates, like a statistician…
Or mayhaps, more like a politician?
That reminds me, the Dentist and Optician…
Appointments to cancel, that’ll cause derision,
Is it a pediatrican or maybe a metaphysician?
I might be better off with a dietician or magician?

Cataract Surgery is my latest thing worrying,
Two Phacoemulsification operations or something,
Then Glaucoma operations in both eyes…
Then there’s Saccades procedure right eye,
But worrying about it is not very wise
Seeing an assessor on 3rd May waited five months, irking,

So by the time you Whippersnappers get to my age,
The NHS will be a memory, but you should manage…
Unless there is a world war again, violence is savage!
The private owners of the hospital will add a surcharge…
£200 for a bandage, £30 to be unbandaged, if you haemorrhage…
£50 a pint lost, and for cleaning up there’ll be an added charge…
An entrance fee if you have to use the triage…
Visitors will be charged, £35 an hour on average…
£40 a cup of tea, £60 for coffee, £40, for other beverages…
Medications, an Aspirin at £35, according to dosage…
Visitors can have a variable-priced massage…
Grizelda £45, William too, either-way Brenda, £200 with frottage!

I think I got carried away there, sorry!

Inchcock Today: Wednesday Welches

Catch-Up

The Sweet & Sour bread was well buttered and filled with plenty of the delightful tasting Polish Szynka Biata pork. My own recipe of burnt BBQ flavoured chips and sliced black tomato. An orange jelly and spray cream dessert. I enjoyed it all. Flavour rating 7.5/10.

It wasn’t that special. The bread tasted so different to any other I’ve ever had, a little sweeter perhaps. It was not over-appealing to me. But not worth the asking price of £1.89 for a 400g sliced loaf. I’ll not waste what’s left cause I still have some of the tasty Szynka pork to use up.

As I exited the wet room from doing my ablutions, I walked yet again into the doorframe, giving it a decent shoulder charge in the process. Swear? Me? Yes!

Pondering over which tea to use for my evening cuppa; Glengettie, Thompsons Punjana or JS Extra Strong, I observed the shallow sunset appearing, so I got my camera and took these shots arrayed of the left here.

I made the brew and Eurgh! It was not even warm, let alone boiled? I switched the kettle back on, washed the mug out, turned, and the kettle had stopped working altogether! I fiddled with the contact points and tried again. Ah! it’s lit up…

All to no avail. It switched itself off again! Now, this is a severe dilemma I’m in! A man, an Englishman, denied his mug of tea? Horrendous! No option other than to use the saucepan then. It’s not going to beat me, oh, no!

But it did! Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s neurotransmitters failed at the flipping wrong time – just as I was pouring the water into the mug! The water had spilt onto my first-time worn, new pyjama bottoms, scolded the thigh a smidge, and I now have one more petite China mug to use! But the Whoopsies didn’t end there; oh, No!

After cleaning up the mess, (Have you ever tried mopping a floor while using a walking stick? It’s not easy!) I’d just finished clearing up and decided that regrettably, a mug of tea was too dangerous without the kettle… well, I mean, trying to use a saucepan with my problems is a no-no! But I remembered Sister Jane telling me she uses the microwave to make her tea, so I tried it out…

I put the water in the mug and placed it in the microwave. I set it on high for three minutes (just a guess!) and kept my nose close to the glass to look for any signs of bubbling water… It started so quickly, and by the time I’d opened the door to get the mug out, the water had all evaporated, or to be more precise, had evacuated the cup for the microwave! Great! Now I dare not use the oven for fear of the water getting into the electrics! Crying was an option, of course… I ended up having a drink of spring water. That making a brew didn’t go according to plan, did it?

Ode To Wednesday’s Whateverisms

What isms can I expect to find today? Yes, Accifauxparisms,
Whoopsiedangleploperisms, and hooliganisms…
From spoon-in-the mouth bosses? Hobbledehoyisms,
If I was younger, I’d fancy some flirtationalisms…
It’s a growing cult, so perhaps some heathenisms?
If you see a German, you’ll get gutturalisms!
Or an American politician – greenbackisms!
On Grammarly, I’ll find grammaticisms…
From the local yobbery will come gangsterisms,
The librarian or Hippy, mayhaps Freudianisms?
From local back-handed Councillors? Favouritisms!
At the local food takeaway, botulism that poisons!
Your local police force, parking tickets and heroisms…
From the motorways, drunken fatalisms…
From Putin? Mostly, falsisms, but also cataclysms!

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

06:15hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, and as the Thought-Storms started, I was rescued by the need to use the Porcelain Throne. Bungled my elephantine flabby body out of the £300 second-hand c1968 recliner and made my way gingerly to the wet room. I thought that was a good idea cause the Porcelain Throne is in there!

As I got inside and rested Metal Mickey on a flat bit of the floor, it dawned on me, miraculously, that the J Sainsbury order is coming today! Crikey, it’s due 06:30 > 07:30hrs! It could arrive at any time.

But of course, the evacuation had to be a rock-solid affair again. I can assure you, urgently pushing cement with your tummy muscles in haste to rid yourself of your own waste is painful! Try not to do it unless it is imperative!

I was coming out of the wet room door, and the intercom which was facing me in the hallway flashed. Talk about just making it! But I still can’t hear the pathetic weak jingle it gives off.

The chap transferred the things from his plastic boxes into my cardboard ones in a jiffy. I gave him a choice of cans in thanks (Gin lime & Lemonade), and off he went. Not a lot there today?

As I unloaded the boxes, I realised there was a lot there.

The cut cobs had one days’ date on them. Substituted the flowers for dearer ones. Not that it really matters; I wanted them to treat Jenny and Francis. Something that didn’t matter was replaced. But the cheese curls were very hard! Bit of a disappointment that was

The fridge did not look very full after I’d emptied things and stored them away? A bit baron, I thought. Or is it me, being got at by Dementia Doreen again? Hehe!

Enough Doreen! Leave me alone, please! I’ll give some of the bananas to Richard when he comes; I ordered a bunch of five, at least I thought I did, or I meant to…

I put the daffodils in separate bags and kept them in the cool and darkness of the hallway. I’ll take them down later on, too early yet awhile to disturb folks who may be sleeping…

Ah! That takes me back… Sleeping! Hahaha! ♫Those were the days, my friend; I thought they’d never end…♫

Carer Richard came in without ringing the chime. Made me jump a bit. No way I can hear anyone knocking on the door. I was initially concerned that the chimer may have broken. Till he told me he had on the door. Well, it is the end of his shift. Haha! Bound to be feeling tired now.

A good lad is Richard. We had a chinwag after he’d done the medications for me, making the time, although he should be trotting off home now. Didn’t want to keep him too long. He also checked the dates on stuff in the fridge for me that were too small for me to read.

I felt a downturn in spirits when Richard had left, and the mind blanks began. I hate it when getting these blank spots! They are still going off all day, for a minute or two, or half an hour or an hour.

I knew I could not get any more photos loaded on the computer, so I stopped taking them. Spent more hours making errors and correcting them on the blog. Everything takes so long to do compared to 6-months ago.

Worra-life! Miniature tackle from birth, the eyes are going with Kathleen Cataracts, Glaucoma Glenda, and Saccades Sandra. The ears blocked, Shaking Shaun, Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, with his neurotransmitters failing, all affected, along with my sanity, concentration and memory, by the big one – Vascular Dementia Doreen! Heck, I’m coming down in spirits suddenly… WHY?

I decided to take the flowers to Jenny and Francis, my treat; I hope it perks people up a smidge. Although later, Jenny emailed me telling me I didn’t have to bother. Which didn’t help me to cheer up much! I had to stop blogging for a while, not that it was going well anyway.

I had another blank while out taking the flowers. I can recall Frank talking to me and a few seconds with Francis, but going in the lifts may as well as not have happened, for I have no memory of using the elevators at all?

I obviously got back in the flat cause I was fiddling with the kettle, trying to get it to work, and wondered how I got there? Comical in one way but scary in another.

The snotty one was drilling when I got back to the computer, but it was still dour progress. Herbert kept the noise to short bursts, intentional or not; I appreciated that.

I went onto the balcony to take a photo of the end car park and decided not to bother. This is the only photo I could get onto the computer of the holes and cracks in the balcony roof joints.

Ups and downs today! I spent hours more blogging and was beginning to enjoy it a bit more when for some inexplicable but heaven-sent reason, the Neurotransmitters made contact with the brain! And stayed that way for about an hour; it was utter bliss! It couldn’t last I realised that, but it was so nice to type and know when the finger ends made contact with every button I hit on the keyboard.

The evening carer is due shortly; it’s that late! So, I’ll get some fodder sorted out… Oh, better do the belated Heath Checks first.

Here we go. Oh, heckithump! SYS 164 DIA 66, Temp 34.1°c.

Then, Little Inchies fungal lesion just started bleeding without anything happening to cause it, as far as I know. I suppose I could have knocked it during a mind-blank, but no, it would have bled then, not now hours later? Also, pain when I cleaned things up and applied the Daktacort ointment. I cringed a little and may have uttered something along the lines of “Oh, heck, that stung a bit!” Ahem! Confusion Conrad joins us!

I made up an evening meal, but not what I planned to make. All four foods were excellent and tasty. The garden peas, the yellow tomatoes, the ready-cooked smoked bacon, and above all, the Cheesy-Twists, tasted heavenly! They had been overcooked, with hard crispy edges on them both, but that is how I like them! Ah, well, I ate it all up.

Evening Carer Valerie arrived, as I was just finishing the nosh off. It was all guesswork as to what she said; the gal has a low voice for hearing, bless her. I offered her a choice of nibble or drink in thanks. She took a handful. Hahaha! Valerie took the black waste bag with her to the chute for me. ♥

I finished off the meal, washed up, and settled down in search of Sweet Morpheus, that’d have been around 19:00hrs. At midnight, I was still battling the infamously, sleep-destroying, pestering Thought-Storms. Gragnangles!

Inchcock Today: Whoopsiedangleplops Galore!

Luckily, I’m well on my way… just a few more million to make! Hehehe!

FRIDAY 11th FEBRUARY 2020

04:14hrs, I gave up on getting any sleep, another night of waking-ups with a start. Hey-ho! Raising up my Titanic-like flabby body from the old c1966 recliner, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, but it was nowhere near as urgent as Thursday mornings. Off to the wet room.

The evacuation was messy again; I’ll take another Galpharm later on. I decided to get the Ablutionings done while I was in there. I was doing so well, no teeth pains or breakages, only one tiny nick shaving, and got on with the showering.

Nothing was going to get me down today! I was singing or humming to myself, I believe. Feeling pretty perky… Until I took a tumble, hitting my bone-dome against the control box on the way down. The WC was utilised to get me back up on my tootsies. However, as I dried myself off and did the medicationings, I was definitely singing some Adam Faith songs, as I recall.

Even dropping the olive oil bottle, which did not break and hit my foot, did not get me bothered! No inclination to go into a Smug-Mode, and still I was singing away. I was on ♫ The Time has Come ♫ as I tackled creaming Harold’s Haemorrhoids. There is no bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion, so I just put some Germolene on things. Far less painful! The knees were of no bother much; Cartilage Cathy and Arthur Itis were both as good as gold.

I got some socks on today. I didn’t use the dreaded sock-glide, but I got them on manually. Even that went rather well! Then it was stinging a bit but hardly really painful.

I got the new jumper on… well, it was new a couple of years ago, I got fully dressed, and I was still in a reasonable frame of mind. Which was strange?

I was doing amazingly well today? Got the laundry bag out ready for collection. I even remembered the laundry needed to be assembled for the Carer to collect and that she was due shortly.

To the kitchen, I took an early morning snap of the view from the window. It came out alright too. All this good luck is very worrying, you know! It had to come to an end. Tsk! I gave myself a half-decent toe-stubbing on the server wheels.

I utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in China Blood Pressure Monitor this time. SYS 140, Dia 59, Pulse 82. Checked on Google, it said: Your blood pressure reading of 140/59 indicates Hypertension Stage 1. It is the lowest form of high blood pressure. Which suits me! Above 90 is considered high. So, the pulse is just fine! Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Checked the Temperature result on the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer; 32.9°c: Mr Google got me concerned by telling me, “Body temperature below 95°F (35°C) is considered abnormally low, and the condition is known as hypothermia. This happens when your body loses heat faster than it can produce heat. Hypothermia is a medical emergency, which, if left untreated, can lead to brain damage and cardiac failure. But, the body reading has been in the 34/5 range for months now? Hey-ho!

Got the computer on, and Windows updates came in. I clicked on Update-Now and went for a wee-wee. When I got back, I had a green screen, full of what was to me gobbledegook, gibberish and confusing code of some sort, mixed in with the English language, I think. Oh dearie me! I got the camera to take a photo of the waffle, and it disappeared?

I turned it off, and waited awhile, then restarted it. The exact original message about a Windows Update came back on? I clicked on update and reboot. Which it did. Confusionableits! My brain was williwaw ridden! Things seemed to be working, so I pressed on and started updating yesterday’s blog.

Carer Helen (I think) arrived very late. This is perfectly understandable, as she has the laundry to do, so left me till last, saving her walking around with a bag of dirty clothes. Fair enough! She was in a good mood, and we had a mini-natter and raised a few laughs and smiles.

I spent the next, wait for it… six and a half hours, of making a mistake after errors, trying to use the computer! What happened soon took away my temporary Smug-Mode, and brought on annoyance, self-pity and depression. That’s how it hit me! What happened? I’ll tell yer…

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, who has been really kind to me for several days compared to usual, his nerve-ends played up like never before. There were times when contact was lost and back again so fast, I think I could feel the nerves trying to contact the brain… on and off, off and on… No wonder I’m struggling so with typing. They alternated at sometimes in milliseconds. Shit, it’s doing it again now.

Over the hours, the many hours I’ve spent losing the battle, I’ve dropped a mug of tea, lost finger end contacts on the right-hand several times, no… many times. They returned to communicating with the brain when I having a wee-wee, suffice to say that when this happens, my fingers have the strength of Goliath, and anything I’m holding is done with a grip of iron, and I have to wait, only a few seconds, for the nerve ends to settle. Of course, gripping Little Inchie was terrible timing and painful for me. It brought tears to my own eyes! I am sure I swore loudly, the ‘B’-word, several times in the few seconds I waited to release Little Inchie.

I’ve been trying for a further few hours, but the thinking and writing are hard work, although the nerve breaks seem to be getting less frequent. Then again, there is no consistency to the problem. Let’s face it, I had a good four-hours straight, with the nerve-ends working… or at least I didn’t get any bother from them anyway, earlier in the morning.

No wonder I was so resilient and chirpy, looking back at things.

Tsk! I found the brain was resistant to work for me as well. I’ve just found these photos I can’t remember taking; never mind putting them on file? Well, not the cloud one.

I think I took the end car park early on, cause it’s so dark. I vaguely recall doing it the more I look at it. The one above from the kitchen window… the memory is blank.

Not only these, but I also found this, a macro snap, the first I’ve ever tried. I wonder if I lost some of it when the windows update cocked things up? I was sure I’d put it in the blog earlier, really early in the day?

The Carer is due in about an hour; I’ve not had anything to eat and am feeling, well, not poorly, but uncomfortable, nervous. I’m going to get some food done.

I struggled a bit with getting the food prepared. It took me a good while to get the nosh cooked and served up. At least Peripheral Neuropathy nerve-ends began to settle a little. Getting back, I hope to the random scene of touch loss, which is easier to live with.

Over the half-hour or so, I took these sunset pictures, rapidly getting darker with each shot I took.

Getting the meal served onto the tray, it dawned on me; I’ve not taken a wee-wee for about an hour now! Amazing!

The cheese, leek & potatoes Pukka pie was delicious. Another mixture of three types of tomatoes: yellow, straight red, and brown. All tasty in their own way. Chips, I used some oddments left in bags in the freezer, canned garden peas. A pot of orange jelly and some spray cream were taken for dessert. A Taste Rating of 7/10.

After eating and washing up the pots, it was time for my TV viewing; My favourite, Heartbeat, had come on Channel Ten. Naturally, I fell asleep at the first set of commercials.

The door chime ringing out ♫”Oh, Susana”♫ woke me up, and Carer Helen came in. The gal seemed a little vacant as we pretended to chinwag. No interest really, bless her. She’s returned the washed and folded laundry and had more for other people outside the door I discovered, so she was in busy mode, bless her. Said thank you, treated, and my farewells. Put the laundry in the other room, too tired to bother putting things away yet.

I gave up on watching Heartbeat, now there is a first! I was just too tired and took advantage, and fell asleep, in hopes of staying that way for a change.

But, no! Minutes after nodding off into blissful sleep, I needed a wee-wee. I utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and got back down in the c1966, none-working, rickety recline

I’d just nodded off again… and the landline burst into flashing! I fought my way out of the uncomfortable, grungy beige recliner, grabbed Metal Micky and got to the landline; “Hello?” No reply, but I think I could hear talking in the background… “Hello, can I help you?” No response, so I tried a third time… “Hello?” At which the receiver was noisily replaced at the other end of the line? Humph!

Sweet Morpheus had not heard my prayer, obviously. Back to the chair yet again… but could I get to sleep now? No! The Thought-Storms began, and they blasted away and lasted for a long time. As I’d found a cure for the virus, brought world peace, and reinstated the death penalty for murderers… I nodded off again.

It lasted for half an hour or so, and the ♫”Oh, Susana’♫ tune chirped up. By the time I’d got out of the recliner, stubbed my toe and got to the door, not surprisingly, there was no one there! I couldn’t see any message or notes put through the door… and almost sobbed on the way back to the recliner…

Nodded off soon enough, but woke up with a start – panicking that I’d left a tap running somewhere. (No logic to this, Vascular Dementia Doreen inspired, I think?) Checked the kitchen and wet room, both without any running taps (faucets), and back, wearily, to the recliner.

Unbelievable! I then needed to use the Porcelain Throne! Not only that, but it was another messy, gooey affair that cost me ages in cleaning up myself and the wet room furniture!

Finally, I drifted off once more. In the next five hours, I only woke up four times, which is doing better than of late.

On the next awakening, I was instantly gripped in a panic; “Had I left the oven on?” No choice for it, I had to drag my weary, flabby-bellied body in a clamber out of the recliner, and go to the kitchenette to check the oven! All was safe!

I returned, feeling anhedonia and self-annoyance, and decided not to bother getting back into the recliner. Got the kettle on the boil, and settled on the computer to update this blog… then, the belated wee-wees started…Granglesbognessbuggerit!

Inchcocks True Tales Of Woe

Intense Inchy: Wednesday 17th March 2021 Diary

INCHCOCK TODAY

Wednesday 17th March 2021

Swahili: Jumatano Tarehe 17 Machi 2021

01:20hrs: Blimus! I stirred back into imitation misery and life, and I realised I’d just had over five-hours in the nurturing arms of Sweet Morpheus! Gadzooks! Plus, I had a short nodding-off yesterday afternoon. Involuntarily, though! The need for a wee-wee developed, so I was out of the recliner and standing with my balance caught in no time?

I wandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). And worra shock, it was a wee-wee of the LPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent) type, and with no PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling.

Things seem to have altered in the wee-wee stakes suddenly? The NHS colour chart was consulted, and I was dehydrated again, but down to level four! Yippy! But the wee-weeing carried on all morning, repeatedly, and in the same mode. I got a little irritated at times with demanding needs, but the urge for a wee-wee cometh so often, and I have to goeth! Haha!

Then I got the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrive, so off I limped to the wet room. A pungent, Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation that needed a lot of cleaning up afterwards again. Of me and the Porcelain!

As you can see by the time on the travel clock om the cistern top, I’d only been up for about ten minutes, three wee-wees already.

Then, as I was asking, I needed yet another leak! Gotten Himmel!

To the front room, and I got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing, with the Boot’s BP machine. SYS 148. DIA 81 and PULSE showing as 83bpm. Which is better than many days have been the March up to now. Not too bad at all!

The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer preferred a reading of 36.9°c – 96.9°f. Perhaps a smidge high, but maybe not. I asked Mr Google and got this answer: 97°F (36.1°C) to 99°F (37.2°C).

I updated the Excel NHS record log with the details. Looking much improved on a week ago. This is the third day that I’ve got access to Excel, and there was no Updating unavailable message coming on the screen.

I wonder if Microsoft’s owner is related to Mike Fries, the man who bought Virgin Media and renamed it as Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and then proceeded to dismantle any semblance of trust, ability or compassion that was left in the business?

You certainly have to admire his skill in running the crap internet service and spending a fortune on advertising lies about it being reliable, don’t you? Fair enough, he perhaps has no idea what he’s doing. But being educated in a Wesleyan Business School and now paid a $19m salary, plus expenses and compensation totalling: Fries’ cash compensation of $8.5 million, was not the highest on the list. Fries’ stocks and options awards — valued at $79.2 million in stock and $24.2 million in options — helped lift Fries to the top salary-wise. Fries also received a $5 million sign-on bonus…

So, it’s no surprise that with the crappiest service and a cunning system installed that blocks anyone from leaving their contract – have you ever heard of anyone who left them? It’s no wonder the overpaid, under-capable git who only makes any profit for Liberty-Gold on paper! And installs hatred in his customers for the intermittent failure of connection of the internet and his contempt shown for them. However, fair does; all the other suppliers are bad as well. I did manage to leave BT when I moved into the flats here, to Virgin, who were then bought out by Liberty-Global – My bad luck! I waffled a bit there, sorry!

I got the Tuesday blog updated, between wee-wees (they were getting longer and more fierce now!) And within four hours I’d got it finished. Flibbledonkackles! Pinterested some snaps, went on the WordPress Reader, not much on again today, but what was sent, was top quality. I read and replied to some comments, then did a couple of graphics on CorelDraw. Made a brew, had a wee-wee and was just about to start on this Diary, and I realised I had not done the ablutions yet.

Gulped down the tea, and off to the wet room. A decent session to start with, the usual dropsies, of course. Only two nicks. tiny ones, shaving, and the ankle and feet were looking fine as I got ready to go in the shower. The long toenails were a bit bothersome.

I really enjoyed the showering today and spent ages in there with the cloth and loofah. I used the mint & cucumber shower gel but was not too keen on the scent. Just as well that I dropped the bottle in lost it all down the drain when it shattered! Hehe!

Dried off, and did the medicationing without any hassle. No socks put on, I’m sure I heard a groan from Sock-Glide-Glenda (Hahaha!)

Got the kettle on, and back to the computer and rebooted it.

The landline rang. It was Sister Jane, telling me she hadn’t received the Inchcock Today diary link? I was sure I’d sent it – I mean; as if a man of my calibre and dedication would forget to! Huh! Ahem! I thanked her for worrying and I checked the Emails…

What a nitwit, dumbhead, pillock, schmuck, numskull, cretin, schlemiel, flibbertigibbet, dope and senile twit,  I am! I rang Jane back to tell her I’d now sent it… I believe my red-face may have somehow seeped through the telephone cable. She was very very calm with me. Hahaha! Lovely of her to check on me though wasn’t it. ♥

Thought! I was born years too early yer know. If mankind survives a few more years, I can see people, not the commoners, mind, getting a memory transplant on the NHS… not that’s doomed innit? You’ll probably be able to get a decent second-hand one. Possibly, around the year 2065, you can get a taxi-drivers memory box, who died of Covid-1219, reconditioned and fitted for about £2.500m in a few years of paying back for Brexit? Hehe!

My mind wandered on to my epicurean-gastronomical fancies. (Food!) So much fodder to feed on at the moment. I dithered, dillied and dallied, changed my mind a good few times… Went for a wee-wee, washed and returned, and started musing over the available foods in the fridge, and there were many to pick from, all I had to do, was decide which one to have… Mmm!

Decisiveness, emphaticalness and obdurateness used to be my strong points in the old days when I was alive, you know. Not now, though! So many different permutations of the meal to make, came to mind; then left it, pretty blank as well! Humph!

Ah. I’ve just remembered, the writing pads should be arriving today, from Amazon. Of course, I only said that for effect, as if I would forget anything, Hahahahaha! Ahem! I reckon my guess is going to be a long way off! I’ll no made anything to eat until delivery has arrived, whenever that is. I tried to ignore the hunger. Oh, I am good… what for, is another question!

I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana and took the evening medications.

The landline rang out, it was a recorded message, obviously a con-job, telling me that Amazon Prime will be taking £79 from my account, and if I wanted to cancel, I had to ring this number… I rang off. Maybe another Nigerian scam? I opened the YourArea Emagazine for Sherwood, I must do something to avoid falling asleep and miss the Amazon package.

A bit of good news on the Covid-19 front! The figures for new cases in Nottingham are down by 22.5% on the previous seven day period!

.

Blow me, the next article telling of a school in the Sherwood area, where six children and thee members of staff have tested positive!.

Good heavens, what next will I come across?

Now new variants of Covid from the Pillillines have been found in Nottingham!

I made a brew of Glengettie, then I took the afternoon medications.

Checked the Amazon tracker, it was in the same place on the graph. Oh dearie me! But never mind, eh?

So tired now, done in mentally not physically… yet. Hehehe!

My ETA guesses at the arrival for the notepad order from Amazon, (16:00hrs) is fast approaching.

I got some mini-Dagwood sarnies made up, in the bowl covered it with foil, but there was no room for it to go in the fridge until the parcel arrives. I didn’t work or think that out, did I? Had a look at the tracker on Amazon. New ETA on it now.

I’m so tired and so hungry. Must stay awake! Aha, the delivery arrived at 17:50hrs.

Got the nosh sorted. 3Wed28

No idea what I’m doing now (Thurday morning) WorPredd have changed things around, and I’m f’ing lost! Sod this!

Can’t edit photos as before, edit and view modes different – Blocks appearing

Sod it!

Ho do I add… never mind, this is my last diary – Thank You WordPress! I’ll try once again, but I’m terribly confused
Too much to take in, so I leaving.

Inputted Inchy – Tuesday 16th March 2021 Dairy

♥ TFZer Lillies Famous Lakeside Teas ♥

INCHCOCK TODAY

Tuesday 16th March 2021

Spanish: Martes 16 de Marzo de 2021

023:30hrs: I woke with a dang urgent need of a wee-wee! Argh! Panic ensued as I forced my grossly overweight bellied-body from the recliner, with visions and a sensation of the surging PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), building-up, getting stronger. Caught my balance and hobbled swiftly over to unused overnight NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).

I had to give this liquid evacuation a new name. I gave it, SWROP (Slow-Weak-Resistant-Oversprinkly-Painful) title. Uncomfortable perhaps rather than painful, though. Many of these followed during the day. I’ll try not to mention them too often.

I took the medications for the evening that I’d missed taken. Humph! Then I got the Health Checks done.

The BP readings from the Sphygmomanometer showed much better results today.

Used the easy-to-use Chinese, made in Hong Kong, contactless thermometer, this result was pleasing too, at 37.2°c – 98.9°f. Not bad at all, methinks.

Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel (that’s three days now that it’s worked, they are getting better – or are they planning for a more extensive freeze or calamity later?), and updated the log for the Cardiac Unit and DVT Warfarin Clinic. I’ve not been there for two years now, but they did say they will reschedule the cancelled appointment sometime in the future.

I inputted the figures for the blood-pressure onto the NHS site and got this graph up on the right. Which works out a bit better than yesterdays’ did. But still in the High Blood Pressure status, but I’ve been on that for months now. I’ve reported it to the nurse, who tells me that she doesn’t trust my BP machine. I mentioned the failure to get through to register my after-effects of the Covid-19 vaccination and can’t get through to the Doctors surgery. “Yes, they are swamped”, was the answer.

It’s a great feeling that gives one a warm glow in the heart when you are so well cared for: Well, so others tell me!

I poddled onto the balcony with the Kodak camera and put the Canon on a charge.

Maybe today I can learn enough to use this Kodak camera properly? Or not!

The first one, an accidental one as I struggled to open the window, would have been great if it was intended!

The two of the outside were possibly a couple of my worst ever efforts.

I tried to take a photo of the car park on Chesnut Walk, through the window. As you can, it was another disaster! And here I am now, having to use the Kodak for a few hours until the Canon charges-up. I don’t suppose it will worry David Bailey? Hahaha!

I got the updating of the Monday post finished. It cost me a few hours and several, well, many, wee-wees. Pinterested, a few snaps from it, then Emailed the links off.

Between SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going down, I suffered an inordinately long time getting rattled and making so many errors!

Made a brew, had a wee-wee, passed wind, sneezed and then returned to the computer, with SSS having calmed down a lot now. So recommenced on the computing.

I stopped, having remembered (Having remembered? – I don’t say that very often! Haha!), to take the morning medications.

I went on Facebooking. Then onto the WP comments responding, and visited the WordPress Reader section. Not much seems to be coming through today? Then…

Had a wee-wee (Hardly worth the bother, a dribble!) and made a mug of tea. Then started this Diary off. The attentions of Nicodemus’s Neurotramsmitter’s failing continued to irk me a little, but I just have to get uses to it; nothing can mend nerve-ends dying. It’s not going to get any better, so I made the best of it and calmed down.

The thoughts of the two food deliveries coming together made me wonder why I’d arranged for that – Pillock! I’d better get the ablutions done, then.

No showering, of course, far too early for that and the risk of disturbing my neighbours. The session was a mixed bag of ailments, Accifauxas and goof fortune!

As I got into the wet room, Porcelain Throne’s need arrived – and what a messy affair that was! Semi-soft, messy, stinking, sticky, brown and red gunk! Yet is went away in two flushes but left a lot of mess that needed cleaning up. The TP was not up to the job alone. Dettol and hot water and a thick, strong cloth were utilised, and this took me ages! The bowl was then cleaned and sanitised, and I start to get the nasal clearing done. Put the ear drops in. Then started cleaning the teeth…

So many dropsies, I made my fingers sore with using the picker-upper so often! Haha! The shaving was problematical due to the drain not clearing the water away. I used the last of the f=drain-clearer and a lot of bleach, but it was not very successful! Glibblebonks! But still, only two tiny nicks in shaving, but one of the many dropped razors broke, and the foam spray can no longer work after the drop on the floor via the sink and my left knee! It broke after that was dropsied!

No other problems, as I didn’t put any socks on. Thus cunningly avoiding a battle with SSG Sock-Glide-Glenda.

I’m going to do any handwashing today, but I did move the thick quilted coat from above the sink to above the wall heater, as it had already-morphed into a damp-only mode.

I had a wee-wee, for what it was worth, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold. A text message came in from Iceland… wait for it… It said at the end of the wording, ‘You have no missing items! Well, that’s another first! Of course, being an experienced Iceland shopper, I knew they would have none of the split brown rolls in stock, so I ordered some bread thins and got them both! And little room in the freezer to use! Serves me, right!

I checked on Gmail to see what subs or not available were coming today on the Sainsbury order. Well, that is fortunate, no sourdough bread, but they had none last week either. And, no french cream horns, well, that’s assuaged my guilt at ordering them in the first place. Thank Lord Sainsbury!

Most, fortunately, I went to find the facemask for when the Iceland lad arrives, and the intercom flashed as I passed by it. Otherwise, I would not have known about it; either the sound from the box too low, or my ears were playing up; genuine good fortune that was!

I admitted him and was soon up at the door handing me the bags, which I put in the hallway.

The man was sociable with it. I handed the lad a choice of plonk, and off he shot, wishing me well!

I took the bags through to the kitchenette. I knew that I hadn’t ordered any kitchen towels, bleach etc., but there seemed many bags there?

All became apparent when emptied and sorted the contents of the carriers.

How, or why had I ordered two packs of the misshaped cooked ham? How or why had I got a dirty-great container of orange juice?

Why I ordered all the packets of chill chicken in different sizes?

The lean diced beef I knew was for making the chilli later on. The cucumber for making pickled cucumber arrived. I put the overordering down to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters letting down so often.

When the Sainsbury order arrives, I really hope I’ve not done it on their order as well; I’ll not have from in the fridge or freezer! Tsk!

I updated this post up to here and prayed I could hear the intercom when Mr Sainsbury arrives; hello, he’s here, and I did hear the intercom, just! The chap put the loose delivered goods in the box and carrier for me at the door, accepted a can of Vodka & lime mix, in thanks, and departed.

As I was putting the things into the kitchen to sort them out. Struggling to find room moire than ever in the fridge and freezer, the intercom rang out.

The chap returned cause he’s found a box of Cornettos he’s missed in his van for me. That was nice of him!

I’d bought a lot of fresh foods. Tomatoes x2, leeks, Limoncello (for Josie), lemon desserts, Coz’s apples (they were dry, bruised and not very good tasting). Bread thins, garden peas shelled, beef chunks, crispy smoked bacon, more cooked meats (Tsk!), milk roll loaf etc.

Somehow or other, I got the stuff put away, and then thoughts of food, eating, my leaning towards eating, nouvelle cuisine, and epicureanism abounded in my mind… What to have for my nosh! I was certainly spoilt for choice! After only a few seconds (fast for me!), I’d opted to get the beef chunks in the crockpot, add oodles of chopped leeks, and the garden peas to be added later.

I got the beef and leeks in and added some seasonings: Sea salt, black pepper, Oxo and Best Bisto gravy granules, burnt chilli powder, basil, and a drop of balsamic vinegar that had been delivered. I forgot all about the tomato passata, though, Humph!

Cleaned up and kept stirring the mixtures as I did the cleaning and sorting the bag of treats for the lovely folk on floor nine. After the water in the pot was bubbling, I turned it down and added the shelled garden peas, stirring regularly but quickly so as not to let the contents cool down. I had a taste, and in response, I added a splash of the Squid vinegar to it.

I spent a good while making up some waste bags and sorting them into the box on the walker-trolley in the hall.

While doing this task, the weariness dawned on me, and I realised that either a blank-period or mind-fatigued withdrawal from awareness was on the way. I just knew. Unfortunately!

So, I decided to get the bags to the chute and nip down with Doris, Jenny, and Frank’s bag. The hobble to the chute-room and depositing of the bags went without any hassle… well, there was a block outside the hallway door to the lobby, who doing some electrical work, and was not too pleased to have to get down from his step ladder to let me out. Hehehe!

I went down to the ninth in the elevator, dropped the carrier at Jen’s flat door, and back up to the 12th-floor. If I recall correctly, I had a marathon wait as the cages kept passing by, going up and down and not showing much interest in stopping for me? Come think of it, it may well have been muggings here, or to be precise, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, that did not sense my pressing the button, or failed to pass on the message to the brain, or Memory Mike, who had no idea what was going on at all? Hahaha! Yes, the weariness was coming… Boulderclumps!

I got back to my floor, and the poor electrician was upon his ladder again working next to the lobby door I needed. I waited patiently until he’s finished what he was doing. The lips visibly moved under his facemask. Not sure what it was he was saying, but the eyes looked rather keenly at me. Hehehe!

As I titivated the crockpot contents and had a little nibble to test things, the landline burst forth. It was Jenny, updating me on the situation with the lack of ILC’s. Holiday (vacationing) time. Well, they deserve them, having to put up with us old antediluvian fogies! Hahaha! Jenny and I had a little natter, which is always welcome. ♥

I got the nosh done, not that it needed much doing now. An expensive meal this one was. But worth it! Flavour Rating 9/10! I got the gravy mix and chilli-level right for once. And the lemon dessert went down well, too! This was one of my better efforts. Although the bank manager may disagree!

Weary-William had joined me, and the only thing I could do was to give in to him. I did manage to wash the pots before collapsing in the c1968 recliner. I seem to recall watching a ‘Parking Wars’ episode on the goggle-box; well, I started to anyway. Drifted off in minutes, but only for an hour or so, I sprang awake with Thought-Stormsrattling away in my head, so persistently.

Got up, and I took the belated evening medications. I got a drink of orange juice from the fridge and took a photo of the evening view. I looked much more vivid than it appears in this sad picture on the right here.

Back to the recliner and climbed into it. The Thought-Storms had gone, and Sweet Morpheus soon took over… Fantabulous!

Impacable-Inchy – Monday 15th March 2021 Diary

♥ A Touch of TFZer Class, here! ♥

INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 15th March 2021

WELSH: Dydd Llun 15fed Mawrth 2021

23:05hrs: I woke-up, requiring a wee-wee. Thus, I fought my sadly overly-stomached, jelly-like bellied body out of the recliner, wobbled onto my painful feet (*with the painful over-long, toe-nails), and caught my balance and grabbed Metal Mickey.

I limped to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), expected a liquid surge to blast out, but only got a WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) outpouring.

Went to empty and sanitise the bucket and needed another wee-wee while washing my hands from the first one! A WDFL mode (Weak-Sprinkling-Fountain-Like) evacuation! Rewashed the hands, and changed PP’s, then off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I took this picture of the cloudy night sky from the window.

I noticed how I had still got the watch on and also how red the skin was looking?

Made the brew, had another wee-wee (Tsk!) and got the Health Checks sorted out. Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd), had the SYS 148, DIA 77, and the Pulse a little higher at 93bpm.

The reliable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer gave a 37.2°c – 98.96°f, which was not too bad at all!

I went on the NHS site and but the program’s BP results and got this resulting graphic. Which I copied and pasted. The BP was rated as a little better than yesterdays.

But not to get too excited, it’s still in the High Blood Pressure level. Tsk!

Microsoft Excel allowed me access, and I updated the Health log. The pulse showed up as in the amber, but that’s better than the red ones earlier in the week.

I had to have yet another wee-wee! But this time, I checked the colour against the NHS Healthy Wee card.

I’d come right down from Level Six yesterday, Very Dehydrated; To level four – just dehydrated! So that was hopeful!

I made another brew of Glengettie tea, and I took yet another weak wee-wee, then got the photographs uploaded and tweaked for yesterdays and this diary.

I concentrated on updating the Sunday post. It took me a few hours, but I got it finished and posted it off to WordPress. Emailed the link and Pinterested some snaps.

I went on Facebook catching up (three wee-wees!) A big job this morning; I’d missed some things off yesterday, Humph! Then the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room, I limped, with the toes really playing up and stinging now?

The Throne session was not a good one at all!

  • Luckily, I didn’t delay getting to the Throne, and as I sat myself down, the flow began!
  • Then it stopped sharply. I got the pen and crossword book.
  • A minute later, it started again.
  • I could tell by the feel of things that it was a Trotsky Terence dominated affair!
  • I rose to look at the damage and was shocked by the amount of almost liquid evacuated red and black coloured stuff in the bowl!
  • This, of course, did not clear on the first flush. Not even the second and third either.’
  • Many manual tank refills by jug from the sink were needed, at least four, I reckon! I’m getting fed-up with having to do this!
  • As I was putting the lid back on and replacing the removed items, a sudden pain underfoot arrived?
  • I’d trodden on the pen! Smashed it, naturally!
  • Hurt the foot, goes without saying really, sorry.
  • I replaced the none-working radio and clock, toilet rolls, and kitchen towels. I’m getting fed-up with having to do this hemerine every morning! Still, I mustn’t complain, things could be worse, and they have been regularly! Humph!
  • Had a final wash, checked the taps (faucets) were not running, and back to the computer.

I went to take the morning medications, swallowing a Numark Anti-Diahorrea tablet with the others, and pressed-on with perusing and commenting on the new posts folks had posted. Next, I read and replied to some WP comments that had come in.

Then I needed another wee-wee! I mean, why? I’m only passing dribbles, but very often. With bother of intermittent PMDing (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling)! Oh, my, the whipper-snappers don’t know what’s coming to them in later life, poor things! Well, poor me, too! Hahaha!

After a few more spelling and grammar errors, it was time for the ablutions to be tackled. As seems usual lately, I got side-tracked and wandered of to wash the thick quilted jacket. I left it soaking in fabric softener and got to the wet-room for a jolly good. Much needed, cleaning up session.

Which went amazingly well! It was as if SSS and Nicodemus had turned themselves off, out of pity, to dissimulate their real intentions or to have me over on the floor later, I’m not sure, yet. Hahaha!

Sure, there were a good few dropsies, but nothing harmful, dangerous, overly painful, or even irking! It was as if an angel had got my back! It went so smoothly, I started to feel worried at the sheer unnaturalness of it. The drying-off was easy-peasy, no falls, no bangs! Even the medicationalisation was done without hassle or Accifauxpas! But, I chickened-out at putting any socks on, no point in pushing my luck too far; I felt sure I could hear a disappointed sigh from Sock-Glide-Glenda?.

I poked the new mark on the right foot, no pain at all, no itching either. I put some cream on it, but it turned a mustard colour, and it was a clear gel? But again, painless! Things can’t go on like this!

I got the handwashing rinsed and fabric-softened, wrung, hung and all done, hung them on coat hangers above the sink. The thick quilt shirt come jacket is going to take some drying. It should be ready to wear by the end of November, I think. Hehe!

My next task was getting the waste bags sorted out and made-up, and getting them in the box on the walker-guide trolley. Not an easy task! Bt the time I’d sorting myself out, there were two more bags to be added!

Trying to escape with the walker from the flat, I had a bit of bother. The box fell off, but I was in good spirits, if nervous, with the good luck… well, absence of bad-luck I’d had this morning. I soon got them back in the box and on the trolley walker.

I poddled along the length of the lift lobby and got into the room with, again, relative ease. Got all the bags down the chute, without any trapped fingers, dizzy’s, falls, trips, bangs, or knocks either!

Then, I bravely went down in the lift, on my way to visit the ICL, wardens interrogation room to advise them of the arrival of the Easter Eggs coming tomorrow. Well, that’s if Iceland and Sainsbury’s don’t substitute anything like pickled walnuts or toothpaste for them! Hahaha! But my main aim was to get some photographs of the Winwood Heights complex and get a natter in with somebody.

Which, after getting no answer to my phone call and no one in the office, I did on my walk back to the block of flats. The glass must be busy.

The top photo I took as I hobbled to the office, the regular bus out trippers were there on there way to the bus stop. Christine and Roy, and Angela were there, but I got no response to my greetings. Chance are they didn’t hear me, and I didn’t them. Hehehe! Old age, eh?

On the way back to Woodthorpe, I took a Winchester Court shot on the other side of the Walk, then Winwood Court, then my beloved Woodthorpe Court from the car park area. I’ll try ringing Deana, or whoever is in, later; I need to find out when the subsequent prescriptions are due and if I have an appointment for when the foot lady starts working again, tomorrow or not. The toenails are getting a bit painful now.

I got in the flat, having actually talked with no one, failed again!), and made an Iceland order up.

I found an easy method on the web of making pickled vinegar. Then, I added some bits to Sainsbury’s order. I put on some distilled pickling, wine and balsamic vinegar. I hope I can use dried dill in it, but I’ll give it a go. I’ve never had pickled vinegar and look forward to trying to make some. I’ll have all needed, I think, to give it a go. The vinegar, salt, sugar, black pepper, and a screw lid jar, but no fresh dill, just dried. Slicing the cucumber might be a bit risky, cut-finger-wise, though. Haha! I’ll ask the ailments to be incredibly kind to me when I make it.

Then I pondered over what I was going to have for today’s meal. After a bit of oohing and aahing, I decided to use up the last of the garden peas in a Chilli con carnie, and add passata with basil, to it. I took a packet of whole bread thins from the freezer to defrost on the window’s shelve.

Went on Gmail to see if owt had come in, and Jenny had sent one. Bless her, I replied, thanking her. Then I had a look for any WordPress comments, and I responded to it. Much time was spent trying to master the Kodak camera, far too long, without any progress being made. But, in the morning, I plan to use Kodak again – I’m determined to mast it! But don’t really expect to!

Then I went into mind-changing, Dithering mode again! I redecided over the meal. The peas, tomatoes and cooked meat, potato salad, roast onions, Marmite cheese, caramelised red onion chutney, wholemeal bread thins, chestnuts, and a custard & jelly dessert instead.

And by golly, it went down well! It took me some getting through, but I gave it a deserved flavour rating of 7/10. Ate it all bar the last slice of wholemeal bread thins!

Miraculously, the wee-wee I had after washing the pots was the last one of the day!

I reckon I settled down and had an uninterrupted straight five hours of heavenly bliss with Sweet Morpheus. Waking up, desperate for a wee-wee…

Impugner Inchy – Sunday 14th March 2021 Diary – I so dislike Sundays!

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INCHCOCK TODAY

Sunday 14th March 2021

German: Sonntag, 14 März 2021

00:25hrs: I woke, worrying, fretting and almost panicking about life’s lousy leanings… But not for too long, a wee-wee was required, and the PMD (Pre Micturition Dribbling) could be sensed arriving.

Thus the swiftest-for-months escape from the recliner was performed, balance caught, and over to the already nearly full NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). A tight, trickling, stinging, spraying all-over wee-wee was taken; that didn’t last for long. So many followed, but I’ll not mention each one, Haha!

As I was taking the bucket to the wet room for emptying, sanitising and cleaning, it became apparent to me that I needed to use the Porcelain Throne. So, I did! And what a difference this time! A draw between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad! Resulting in my having to wait for ages for things to start, despite the inner rumbling. So long that I got the crossword book out – mind you, I couldn’t get any clues answered, Tsk! When the motions began, so did the pain from my having to force things along, yet seconds alter the splattering, then the slashing into the bowl, signalled the end of the action?

Then the hard work had to be done. The tank was refilled three times, four-flushes, and a lot of cleaning up was needed. Then the emptying, cleaning and sanitising of the NWWB had to be done. I was knackered, and I’d only been up for about 20-minutes! I was glad I’d remembered to order some more toilet rolls next Tuesday twixt 08:00 > 09:00hrs, from Sainsbury’s. That is if they have some in stock, of course.

If not, they may send me some brown shoe polish or cough medicine as one of their infamous substitutes, I suppose. Snigger!

I went on the computer and started updating the Saturday Diary. The internet was slow this morning. But I pressed on and got it finished and posted off to WordPress. Then, I Pinterested some pictures and onto the WordPress Reader section. As I moved onto the Facebooking catch-up…

Took the missed earlier evening medications. And I put the kettle on. Had a wee-wee of a much different variety this time of the unexpected PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode. The pitiable but heartbreaking Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet came back on, of its own accord. A miracle?

Made the mug of Glengettie tea and went back onto the Facebooking. After a half-hour or so…

  They pay £23.4b to buy Virgin Media. Now, they merge with Telefonica’s British mobile company O2, in a deal worth £24Billion! The boss man Fries is on a salary of $2.4m, a $5m bonus for signing a new contract, stock awards of $79m, options worth $20.2m, and cash bonuses of $15.3m, plus expenses! Of course, I’m not jealous or anything like that! But I do wish he could get his bloody internet to work correctly!

I got around to doing the Health Checks at long last.

The old Boot’s made in China Sphygmomanometer showed up a slight increase in the BP figures. SYS up to 160, DIA to 71, but the PULSE down to 81bmp.

The reliable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer was in the green once more, at a reasonable 36.7°c – 98.6°f.

I managed to beat Microsoft again and gained access to my Excel HC listings to update them.

Fair enough, both Excel and Word blogged access later on in the day to me!

I put the BP figures into the NHS site and got this reading on the right back.

Still not good, is it, being in the Red still! Hey-ho! I did mention this to the nurse last week but got no response, so I assumed it must be okay.

I had a wee-wee of the SPL (Steady-Persistent-Lengthy) type, and back to the WP Comments and answering for a while.

Made a brew, got some biscuits and took a break for a while. The sunshine was coming out, the winds were howling, the ‘Hum’ was getting much louder, and started sneezing again?

I felt a lot better than I was yesterday, but the wobbles and weariness started about midday. Hopefully, and peradventure, it will not return again today… but it is a Sonnertag, so anything can happen!

I got a decent bit of handwashing done, rinsed, wrung and hung above the kitchen sink. Mostly thick clothing, so it’ll take a few days to dry-off properly.

Started the ablutions! Which produced some slightly annoying and comical happenings.

The toes were hurting when I took off the socks; the getting ever longer nails were starting to curve in and out. For the life of me, I can’t remember who cut them for me last time? Really sad, innit?

The session went well, other than the dropsies were more than ever before, not Nicodemus to blame this time, but the violent SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley). Although she calmed down later, nicely.

I got all sorted and showered after the session. Did the medications and started to get dressed. I opted to put some short cotton socks on to avoid using Sock-Glide-Glenda. (Yes, as cowards go, I’m up there with the best! Hahaha!) I got them on without any tumbles, but it was a painful experience.

I opened the pack of Tena PPs, to find they were of a different colour and pattern. Then realised on the label it said ‘Sport Pants’? They were smaller than the usual ones, and as I pulled them up, my fingers went through the toilet-paper like thin fabric! I was most disappointed, but I saw the funny side of the farce. Expensive job this! I also noticed the flobby, rotund wobbly belly was getting far too extensive now! I must cut down on the comfort food! I can’t believe I wrote that? Hehe!

I spent the next hour or so prepping Josie’s Sonnertag lunch. I washed up as I went along as best I could and had very few dropsies. Thus, I was a little impressed with myself for doing so. Then I presented the fodder to Josie at her front door, dead on the designated delivery time! She gave it a quick inspection, and the gal seemed happy with it.

I got the waste bags sorted out and filled, well, overfilled the box on the walker-guide. (Actually, I forgot all about doing this and left them there, not taking them out to the waste-room chute! In the morning, they were still there awaiting my attention) Hahaha!

I went into the wet room for a wee-wee on the way back, and as I opened the door to enter, A wanton, involuntary right leg Neuropathy Pete Schuhplattler dance erupted out of the blue! Luckily, no injuries this time or falling over. Just a little clout to the side of my head and earhole on the doorframe. It could have been a lot worse!

As I was washing the hands after the wee-wee, the weariness syndrome arrived. So, I thought I’d better get my nosh sorted before I fade too much. So, I did!

I made a few Dagwood style sarnies, with milk roll bread, beef and tomatoes: some potato salad, cheesy mash, garden peas, and a few vinegar-flavoured chip-sticks. Got settled in the c1968 recliner and slowly masticated away at the fodder on the tray. Flavour rating 7/10, the Iceland cooked pork was very thin and bland in the extreme, in fact, horrible and papery tasting to me! A shame that!

I washed the pots, wrung out the water from the hanging washing, had a wee-wee, and settled down to watch the TV. I checked the listings first – what a load of rubbish! Apart from a football match between Southampton and Brighton & Hove Albion, it was not worth watching. When the game had finished, I thought I’d put on a DVD… but the weariness was gripping me now, and I drifted off into a dream-filled slumber for a few minutes or so.

Being woken up by the pain from the toes as I moved my legs under the quilt. I’d got the camera on the Ottoman, so I took this photo of the pain-giving toenails! Why they were so bad, I didn’t know. I took off the socks, and they didn’t seem excessively long? But tender they were. Perhaps it was the old cotton socks that had irritated things?

I got up for a wee-wee (fed-up with this!) and resettled, suffered a Thought Storm, and flowed body and mind into the arms of Sweet Morpheus.

Idiotic-Inchcy – Saturday 13th March 2021 Diary

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Saturday 13th March 2021

Croatian: Subota, 13 Ožujka 2021

00:00hrs: Considering the truly low and depressed mood I found myself in last night, as I stirred into semi-life, I was suddenly aware that the gloom and doom tormenting my brain was gone, disappeared, no longer there! I found this rather flummoxing.

I was baffled as to why? Nothing had changed from yesterday. Had I been dreaming, and that may have had some effect in cheering me up? Was it the bang on the head when I took my tumble that brought it on in the first place? Hello, I’d better get up; I don’t want to encourage any Thought Storms! I need a wee-wee anyway.

I freed my overweight, flobby-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner with absolute ease – until I got the weight on the knees! Argh! Cathy Cartilage on the right knee, and Arthur Itis on the left one, were both so painful and in a bad mood with me this morning. The few hurtful paces to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) indicated that this will be a less-than-easy hobbling about Saturday.

I fumbled about to get Little Inchie out and realised as I did so, the NWWB was over half full? Why does this happen so often? I must have made many trips to release this much wee-wee overnight? Yet I cannot recall getting up at all to do so? The pain I must have got from Arthur and Cathy getting out of the recliner so often, I’d have thought I would have been made me aware of what I was doing? My mind was soon cleared of this question, as the embarrassment of a somewhat significant amount of PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) escaped into the half down PPs. By bottom-lip protruded, and after finishing, I took the bucket to the wet room for emptying and sanitising and got a clean-up and got a new pair of PPs on.

It’s time and incidents like this that really bring it home to one; the body is doing its own thing, the brain’s logicality loses its way, the memory is fading fast and now avoiding most of its retention powers. The bones, joints, and ticker etc., are crumbling without mercy. Still, yer doesn’t like to complain, does yer!

I got the kettle on to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and it sounded like someone had just turned the volume up on the ‘World-Wide-Hum’; Gawd, it was loud! And the heaters were not working again? Worra, life! But I imagine that there are many people in the complex in this position, not that it cures anything, but, at least, I am still aware of my senility is en route. I worry for the future, though. Blooming cold in here again! Weekend, of course, so no one to help me out with getting the heaters also going correctly.

Had another wee-wee of the IRPT (Indefatigably-Relentless-Painful-Trickling) mode.

I took the morning medications, then got the Health Checks done. The temperature was alright this morning; it seems to be getting steadier now. Of course, I shouldn’t have said that; it was silly of me! 36.7°c – 98.06°f. It was in the green, so it should be acceptable.

The Boot’s sphygmomanometer readings were decent, methinks. SYS 150, DIA 71, and the Pulse was at 84 bpm. As I was taking this, a headache came on suddenly, sharp to the right side of the head – then a minute later, it was gone?

Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel to update the Health Checks listing figures.

Do you see that? Three, in-the-green temperatures on the trot there! Much better than earlier in the week.

I had another wee-wee, surprisingly, of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style. Then made a start on the updating of the Friday Diary. Sorted the photographs out first, then got the scripting done. The ailments of concern were just two; Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters letting me down a few tines, and of course the SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) in support, but a lot less bothersome than she was yesterday. I perseverated and got it finished but had to have four wee-wees during the three hours of writing and correcting—all of the SPL (Steady-Persistent-Lengthy). I’m getting variety today, at least. Haha!

As I put the kettle on in the cold, shiver-giving kitchen (Heater still not working), I had to nip off to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. What going on here! Constipation Konrad seems to be fighting back? Heck of a job to get things moving, and it was gooey yet solid? The toilet rolls will have to be ordered today; if I can get a slot for an A.M. delivery. A good clean up, and pleasingly, the evacuated produce was cleared with just two flushes!

I had a wash-up and had another wee-wee, this time of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode. Another washing of the dandies, and back to the computer.

I Pinterested some snaps, Emailed the link, and went on Facebooking catch-up. Spent a long time on that. Two WordPress comments had come in, which I replied to. Then I visited the WordPress Reader Section. I had another wee-wee of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode… I think we can assume that every half-hour or so throughout the day, I needed and took a wee-wee; it’ll save me a lot of typing. Tsk! Then:

I went onto the Sainsbury site to see what slots were attainable. I got a slot for Tuesday 16th @ 8>9a.m. Do you know, I made a mistake and ordered some Fresh Cream French Horns.

Brekkers sorted out. And from here on, it is hit and misses, memory-wise, very patchy. Sorry.

Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so good, perplexed, and tired out.

I had a weariness-attack, and I just turned off the computer and sat down on the recliner for many hours, watching some banal crap on the TV, but I couldn’t understand why. Doing nothing but grow fat by nibbling biscuits, crisps, ice-cream as well, I think?

The need for the Porcelain Throne then forced me to get up. I ached all over, was coughing and sneezing and felt under the weather, and confused. For some reason, I found out in the morning, I’d not cleaned up the wet room, Eurgh!