INCHIE TODAY – Sunday 29th January 2023

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Inchies Ode Today was inspired by Timothy Price Photographer extraordinaire and Jolly Good Cyber-Mate

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It’s been an… erm, er… well. an interesting month so far.
I’ve been given a rubber wristlet for DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). A Diabetes rubber wristlet. These will decorate my wrists along with the On Warfarin, Allergic To Clopidogrel, Hard of Hearing, and the new last week, Dementia alert bands. The Cataract – Vision – Impaired one has not arrived yet.
I’ve checked the box of the options on the Doctor’s letter. In answer to the Question: Where Would You Like To Die, at Home or in a Hospital?

Now after the initial rushing me into the hospital when I woke up with blood coming from Little Inchie and the Haemorrhoid-ridden rear end.
 I think this was four weeks ago. The Paramedics took to the QMC, A&E.

Where the medicos must have forced two gallons of warm water down my throat to get the wee-wee flowing through Little Inchy, as opposed to Catheter Cathy’s Contraption. I had the catheter put in and taken out about six times, which for me with Phimosis and the Fungal Lesion – not to mention having the smallest willy I’ve ever seen (I’ve seen ten-year-olds with a bigger one than I). This is why the in and the outing of the tube were so painful for me. And it really was testing my pain limit… mind you, it still is at this very moment. I was on the computer and listening to the new tenant’s TV blasting away upstairs. (I assume. He or she might be getting the flat sorted, which accounts for the occasional clunks and thuds. Herbert Mark Two? Haha!

No problem, though; I’ll get used to it. Just take out the hearing aids.
They did bladder scans, and some on a big machine. But gave up and sent me to the City Hospital Urology Department. Patience Ward Two.

Where Patience was at a premium. Urology was just as baffled as the QMC staff were. They had the catheter in and out over the next day, at least eight times; despite gulping down at least two gallons of water, getting to use Little Inchie for wee-weeing was a failure. They (Urology) summoned me back to have a… I’ve forgotten what it was called now.

Ah, I’ve got it now (just looked it up on the Internet). A Cystoscopy, a CT scan of the urinary tract, and a urine culture. Still, no reason was found, so the catheter has now been on for about 4-5 weeks. The walk to the Doctor, half a mile at most, took me nearly two hours! I had to keep stopping cause the pain was so bad. I got the surgery, told the Doctor, and hose said: “Talk to Urology”. It’s great to be so cared for, innit?
Anyway, since the tumble I had getting on the trolly at the hospital, week one: I had another fall. Week two: two Accifauxpas. Week three: Just the one; it wasn’t a bad one. Week four: Three tumbles, and two, one seriously,  walking-into-solid-objects. The wet room door, and then the junk room door frame. Which started and produced a , that had me over – but I fell on the two bags of laundry that has not been collected. I’m glad they were days late now. Hehehe!
Today, the wee-wee into the bags seemed a little better. I reckon I’ve emptied the around ten times! And the blood in it was far less than yesterday’s was.
Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? Maybe… perhaps!
The attaching did not take place. No Carer arrived to attach it for me. I believe they were struggling with staffing problems and possibly the hospitalisationing of another tenant. No bother, I kept waking up overnight anyway, and I remembered to check the small day bag each time. Emptied it three times. No sweat!

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With all the nocturnal activities of emptying the pouch, I didn’t get up until 07:30hrs. Little sluggard! The was at bursting point, I managed to get it emptied before any disaster!

arrived as I was making a brew. Got the medications sorted, and he helped me ready the bin bags for him to take. Said how busy he was. Thanked him profusely.

 I left the hot water tap running again!

The pain from Little Inchie was still bad and stayed that way all day & night. and cobblers!

then Came at teatime.

Late morning view.

and later came.

Hyper-One Again.

Mid-Morning views.
A lot of white cars?

Catheter emptying. Nice and like colour this moring.


Magnificent Sunsetting this evening!

Catheter is ready for emptying.
Is that a twinge of blood in there, I see?

Sunset bying down…
Eerie colours changing…
Still beautiful…
A minute later, the last blast from the dying sun…

Looks like a two-tone of blood in the Catheter…
That’s a better piccy.
But look at the blood in it!!!
Argh!

Started emptying it – rich red blood…
Looks to be thinning at the end…
Almost bubbling now? Can you see a cat’s face in there?

Starting to make the evening Meal and, Carer Richard arrived.
He was looking fitter tonight but not a happy laddie. But soon cheered up when he got the new night bags to put on the day pouch. These ones had the plastic grip so you could hang them up. Sorted the medications, and we had a little chinwag. Np putting the world to rights, but we did manage a bit of cheer for each other.

When the night bag was on, the blood started to flow in dribs and drabs.
But, oh so slowly.
The long extension tube often stops the flow, and I feel the build-up in my bladder, and have to shake the blood through.

Richard showed me how to use the Air-Fryer, and he put some alphabet potato letters in it and left to get on with his other jobs.

Fifteen minutes later, the fryer gave out a ping that, luckily, I was in the kitchen to hear. What an alarm timer with one ping, and that was my lot!
The potato letters tasted great, all crispy on the outside.
The spuds I did in the slow cooker. The tomatoes were just about acceptable tastewise (Italian, not good this time of year). And the ersatz mini-franks were surprisingly excellent! Soya based methinks

Got this blog finished and posted off.

TTFNski, EACH!

INCHIE TODAY: Monday 23rd January 2023

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Not A Good Day
In short (Especially the Hobble and the visit to the Doctor).

Photo inspired, memory not good.
Being so late in getting the blog done and all that, after having lost a version I’m sure I’d written, and I had to start again after somehow deleting everything?

Bit of blood in the overnight Catheter pouch.

Caught a seagull launching off of a lamplight.

Got the ablutions done. Messy and painfully.
Readied things needed into the walker-trolley.

Carer Richard Arrived. He was tired out and frustrated with
the being different each me they got a fresh supply. Got the meds sorted, and we had a little nattering session. Well, me mostly… Hehehe!

Set off to the bus stop…

Down in the elevator, along the link passage through.
Winwood, then Winchester Courts, and out to the
bus stop. Not so cold this morning, thankfully.
Had a chinwag with a lady from Winchester Court.
Got off at the bottom of the hill.

Started what turned out to be a bad idea.
Walking up the hill on Mansfield Road and down into Carrington and the Sherrington Park Medical Park surgery.

Every step was agony. Due to the darned
having dropped
down the leg, the inserted tube was pulling on poor.
 . I could feel it bleeding, and it
was so sore and stinging.

I eventually got over the crest of the hill. I had
to stop many times to give me a breather from the pain.

Within 10 seconds of my arrival at the surgery, Doctor Vindla came to fetch me into the consulting room. (Just got there in time, but it must have taken me a full hour or more to hobble to get there)
I could hardly get into the room. Then the farce began…
I thought she needed to see me urgently, as the receptionist told me, to give me some details from the Urology at the City Hospital; about the recent stay and check-up results I had with them.
But No! I think she reckons I’m about to croak out…
Cause all she wanted was for me to tick the two options on a letter she gave me, telling me to take it and read it, think about it, make my choices and return it to her. And what was it for? I’ll tell you the two options I had to choose from…


Would you like to go on the DO NOT RESUSCITATE list? I ticked it.
And the next one was different…
Where would you like to die; Hospital or At Home?
I ticked The Hospital. Well, that cheered me up!
I then told her of the .
She asked if I had had any falls or trips lately?
I smiled underneath my face mask and replied:
That’s one question that shouldn’t need answering – Yes!
“Ah, it’s probably from bruised ribs, then!”
This prompted me to ask why the Paracetamol were not delivered
with the last prescriptions. Cause I have none left now, just when I really need them. No reply!
Then I mentioned the having smaller and smaller bags attached each time they are replaced? And are causing
“See the District Nurse about that!” Thank you.
And the blood in the Urine?
“I’ll let the know that” Thank you.
May I use the toilet to empty my full ?
“Yes, see you later!” Cheerio, thank you!

I was a smidgeon nonplussed after this meeting.
did what I wrote about above really happen?
Or was interfering with my memory again?

Either way, I was forced to go down the road to the Lidl store to see if they sold Paracetamol or Ibuprofen.
The painful walking had not eased off. Then again, nothing’s was done about it – What I expected, I don’t know.

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After a hobble around inside the store, I came out with some bits and pieces but no Paracetamol. Milk, potatoes, a packet of biscuits, cashew nuts, and some Ibuprofen.
Caught a bus to Sherwood. Dropped off and hobbled over the road to the bus stop to catch the number 40 bus up to the flats… I was about 100 yards or so away, and it arrived – but I could not move fast enough to get there in time. Which proved very costly to me…
By having half an hour to kill until the next bus arrived, I went into the Wilko store. And for once, they had a decent choice of items on the shelves. So, naturally, for me, I bought a few of each item while they had them in stock. I came out of there £26 pound lighter in my pocket!

Lavender Dettol, and Neutrodol fresh air spray on offer, caught my eye. Along with Paracetomal, Ibuprofen Extra Strong, and cloth-wash freshener at three for whatever it was, on offer again! (To go in the wee-wee bucket when emptying the Pouches) Fool! Oh, and fresh air spray for fabrics, two for £3.99. Tsk!

Up to the bus stop. Caught the bus.
No one to gossip to.
At the flats…

Went into Winchester Court and through the link passage into Winwood Court. Not many folks around?

Through to Woodthorpe Court, where the recharging and storage for the disabled scooters are, and to the lifts. (In the distance)

Up to the flat…
Rang Meridian Care,
To let them know I was back in situ.
And soon found that the…
The tiny pouch really was at bursting point.
Emptied it, and I got the purchases put away. Took two tablets straight away, a Paracetamol and an Extra-Strong Ibuprofen.

I had a moment of revelation (is that the right word?) I had not long since walked right by the Carrington Pharmacy.
But forgot to go in to check if any painkillers may have been sent electronically from the Doctor to the chemist. But I expect it had not been sent, anyway. I wonder if the Doctors get a bonus for everyone they get to join the DO NOT RESUSCITATE brigade? Hehehe!

Mayhap if they can save on not resuscitating…
The NHS might be saved?
Yes, a Rishi Sunak scheme, maybe?

Getting dark already… and here comes the sunset

Very nice.

Super Nosh!
Ersatz bacon pieces, tomatoes with added basil, and three sourdough rolls. Followed by a pot of lemon cheesecake.
Flavour Rating 8.8/10!

Arrived. Sorry I just can’t remember who it was.
Had I not later destroyed the first blog I did for today, I’m sure I put the name on there. But, no… I somehow deleted the entire blog, and it’s not in the bin?


Washed the pots, and I took this second shot of the sky and sunset.

Why I took these is another unknown. It’s all a part of the mysteries of the Woodthorpe Court’s sinister Spirit’s master plan. To raise the devil, spread wonders, blunders, rodomontades, fears and descenders from the comfort of sanity into a gibbering wreck!..
Must have been a reason, I suppose?

After an hour or two, I realised I’d not checked bag for a while. So, I did. Oh, not much in there?

I’m getting more confused than ever here. It’s with me already having written this stuff and losing it, I think. Keep reckoning. I’ve done it twice on this blog… which is possible. How I feel at the moment, anything is!

Carer Richard , came and to the
for me. He tried to adjust the strapping to make it less painful for me, on the . I thanked him, and we had a little mutual moan and natter. I went with him to the door to lock it as he departed. Be lost without the lad.

Another excruciating, pain-wise day done!

Inchcock: Tuesday 6th December 2022

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06:30hrs: After a much better night, only jumping a maximum of five times, I stirred and took a wee-wee.
Went to get the kettle on and took this photograph of the morning view. Not very good, is it?
Then the Porcelain Throne visits began. Over the first hour, I had four trips to the , all little, watery, messy and stinky. And another three visits to the wee-wee bucket. What an hour that was! Almost tired myself out and thought of getting my head down again!

But, me being the heroic, dedicated, conscientious young man that I am, I pressed on with jobs that needed doing.
I made up some waste bags. Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and I put the computer on, which told me it was -2°c in Nottingham.

came in, and I was glad to see him. Told home of wee-weeing and Throne visits taken. The lad was yawning energetically. (Well, it was the end of his shift, bless him)
We had a natter about this, that and the other. He put the three letters I’d got yesterday in the Carers folder. He’ll try to sport put someone to try and get the lift arranged for the Doctors visit for me. A good lad is Richard.

acci-whoop After he’d gone, I had the growing of its own accord, and the bladder pains burst out again, but only when I stretched or bent and got up after sitting down. Then, after all, we’d spoken about, I got the . At the same time, the was needed, and I didn’t get there in time!
Another mess to clean up and bag things. I had gone from an appreciative of getting some sleep when I woke up – to a… what can I say?
continued. How am I going to get out to get some money from the hole-in-the-wall thingy?

Going to have to fo into shorthand here; it’s already 17:00hrs. A lot to get done yet.
I’ll have to skip through. Take it that the wee-wees and Throne visits just kept coming.
arrived, she tried to call the 111 lines to ask for advice about bladder problems but could not get anyone. Bless her for trying.

Liberty-Global Virgin Media’s internet went down for a while. Hard to believe, I know… Huh!


Well, another good one for the record.

Arrived. We had a little natter… Well, I did. Hehe! Gave me the evening medications.

Visit number eight was taken.
This time, I managed to avoid any naughty, messy, annoying, angst-making, and costly time-consuming .

Around 1740hrs, I went to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. The view of the evening sky forced me to fetch the Lumix camera, and I concentrated as best I could on taking some shots of the amazing sky on offer. Here they are… The first two were taken five minutes before the last three. Bootiful!


Time to get some food sorted out before ‘Heartbeat’ comes on the TV, so I can watch it while I dine.
When I got o n the kitchen, I found I’d left the mug of Thompson’s Punjana on the counter, and it had gone cold. !
I think I was a smidge contented with the pictures coming out so well, for once, and forgot all about the brew.

I got a vegan pastie and a ‘beef slice’ in the oven, I’ll have some BBQ sauce with them, mayhaps. And two pots of the Soya lemon yoghourt. With me having made the cock up with the Asda order and getting two loads in two days, I have a lot to get through. I’d laugh if I didn’t feel

I tucked into the belated meal.
The potato Rostis was the highlight of the feast. Crispy on the outside and soft within. Gorgeous tasting!
Especially with being dipped into the BBQ sauce with each bite of them. Two bites a Rosti!
The Vegan mince and gravy slice was very nice too. The veg pastie was not so good. So a taste rating of 7/10 was given.

I had to fight not to fall asleep when washing all the things up.
Got down in the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, squashing, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.

But not for long. chimed out, and in came my Saviour . I fear I was not in a fully receptive state (Half-asleep) but do recall that the first thing Richard did was to hand me a loaf of sliced wholemeal bread!
How kind a gesture from the lad.

Handed me the Peptac medicine and asked if I felt I needed a Paracetamol, which I think I declined. He checked the taps and stove and was on his way; bless him.

I felt sure I’d get a decent kip in. I should have known better!
Back to the nod-off – waking up with a jerk, nod-off – waking up with a jerk, nod-off – waking up with a jerk, nod-off – waking up with a jerk, nod-off – waking up with a jerk… Grrr!

Inchcock Today: Thursday 1st Decemeber 2022

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05:20Hrs: I woke up with the guilt of poor Carer Richard going with me today to the Hospital. It makes sense, I know; he is the only person on this planet that can answer the questions the nurse will ask. He was so kind to offer to go. Especially after he’s just finishing four tours of duty. But I know how tired the lad can get without this extra, but that’s Richard for you. Not that any of this assuages my feelings of putting on him. After stewing in my guilt and appreciation for a few minutes, I decided to get my lumbering-elephantine body out of the recliner and get the ablutionalisationing done straight away. That was the plan!

Scenario: Dark, no RV or computer on, but a strange light from the kitchen was clearly visible, even to me, as I approached the open room door… Dang, Dang… Dang-Dang!
As I looked to my right into the kitchenette, a narrow red-yellow light beam hit me from within the room!  To all intents and purposes, it was a single eye, located head-height and piercing. It was completely dark otherwise. That must have helped with the illusion, too).

I suppose I had some help in getting confused from my ailments,, and , and getting misled.
For a second or so, I believed there was a possibility of a one-eyed intruder standing in the kitchen. “Go on, have a laugh” Hehehe! I did after I got the light on.

At that moment, it reminded me of a science fiction film of old, I forget the title. An alien who had a giant robot to protect him? Not that it would have fitted into my kitchenette anyway, but it did cast a deadly ray of the same colour that disintegrated tanks in New York. Did somebody Renee or Rennie star in it?
Anyway, as I got the light switched on, I realised that it was from the fridge door that I’d left open last night.
I’d stacked some food around it (the fridge light), including a pot of orange and raspberry-flavoured jelly. The light was altered into a beam as it went through… I did feel like a fool. Nothing new there, then!

The first noticeable thing was as I was going to get my feet into the bowl. It was amazing how the left leg was tiny-thin compared to the right one? A different colour too? Erm?

Apart from losing ten minutes searching for the toothbrush (it was underneath the trolley), a couple of hardly worth-mentioning shaving cuts, and a door shoulder charge on leaving the room. All went well. Even the getting the socks on and medicationalisationing.

I worked it out so that I might just have time to get the Wednesday blog finished (not a lot to do on it) before I needed to get the things sorted out for today’s visit to the Coppice Hospital. And yes, I even got that done as well!
So, a scare of sorts; that turned out to be a humorous incident. Great ablution session and the best bash on the blog I’ve had for months? A phenomenal start to the day!

THE TRIP TO THE COPPICE HOSPITAL

Arrived, having just completed his fourth tour of duty. Instantly my guilt returned.
It was a weird sensation; I was so pleased to see him, shook him by the hand… But the lad looked like he was on his last legs.
Not that it stopped him from launching into helpful advice and checking that I was getting the right things ready to take with us. Richard rang for a taxi.

I did nearly forget the reading glasses but remembered as we were at the point of leaving. I went to get to them.
Richard had already made the checks on taps etc., so the didn’t get a chance to get me going.
We were down in the lobby in plenty of time. The taxi arrived minutes later.
The taxi driver, like so many of them, took shortcuts through the estates. It seemed to my , that all the roads and streets had speed bumps on them! One of the worst, well not worst, but most painful taxi rides ever. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than poor SOSTH!

We arrived at the right place on the grounds, and I was helped out of the taxi. They retrieved the three-wheeler from the boot for me, and I felt well looked after. Bloody hurting in the SOSTH testicle area, though! Hahaha!

Instinct, I think, led Richard to lead me around some buildings to the required door, finding it the first time. Thank you, Richard!
Really good that Richard was there; we had to use an intercom thing to get in. Well, Richard did. It was not a long wait after Richard had logged us in with the receptionist, and the Memory Nurse fetched and led us to the office we needed, hers. A lovely nurse.
We went through the usual memory test. I think I did better than the last time at the surgery. The normal questions and a draw-a-clock routine.
Then some history, then medical questions.
A session of questioning Richard. I couldn’t hear them, unfortunately.
The nurse said I did well. (Which was worrying at the time cause I do need help!) She is going to give me a brain scan… now at this point, I had one of my blank moments and what she was saying did not get through properly. But I thought it did, now I cannot remember the details of what she had said. She might have given me a date of the first scan… maybe, but surely I’d have written it down if she had? February rings a bell in there somewhere. Mayhaps the first scan, then a second to see the changes in the brain? Oh, dear, Richard will know. I hope.
Why I didn’t say something at the time beats me.

But poor Richard was really in need of some rest by them. And we were soon told we could go. Which was a blessing for my mate Richard.
The receptionist called a taxi for us. We were soon on the way back here.
This taxi driver took a similar speed-bump route back but quicker driving, which entailed some cruel en route.

Back at the flats, all Richard wanted was to get home. And I don’t blame him one bit. I told him I had some of his favourite burgers in the fridge for him, but he was so tired he just wanted to go home. I pointed out that when he gets home, these burgers will only take two minutes in the microwave… He changed his mind and tool them. So hope he enjoys them, but he’ll probably fall asleep eating them.
Thanks again, mate.

BACK HOME

When Richard had departed, I had a feeling of aloneness, not loneliness. If you know what I mean?

The WC was used and then photographed. Funny how you miss things when you go out, innit? Hehehe!

Took a shot of the main room. Otherwise known as ‘The Tip’, ‘The Mess’, ‘Rubbish Room’, or ‘Bedroom’, although I don’t have a bed anywhere.

Then the kitchenette. A place of fear, Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, burnt food, fridge and freezer doors left open, hob and oven left turned on, many trip-overable points, and occasionally a weird one-eyed monster appears in the night.

All a part and parcel of the unaccountable mysteries, phantoms, and haunting of Woodthorpe Court. (It never used to be like this, they told me until I arrived!)

I blame myself, like.

Arrived in good spirits. I asked him to ring EasyLink to arrange a lift if they could for tomorrow to Bulwell. I spent ages getting the details together and readying the calendar… But no chance! They were obviously either fully booked up or out of drivers again. They divert to a message when that happens. I wanted to get some food in.
Still, I’ll not starve, I’m sure. I’ve got a can of gungo beans, some out-of-date butter, manky even further out-of-date burgers in the freezer, and some potatoes that just need de-eying. Haha!
Shaquille departed with his chosen can. After which, I realised he had not issued me with the Peptac medicine.

I pressed on with doing this blog. It was incredibly slow going again. So I decided to get the Health Checks done… and this was the result!

Well, Phantasmagorical! First Time Ever!

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NOTTINGHAMSHIRE NEWS SNIPPET

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18:00hrs: I put some potatoes in the oven. (After a lot of de-eying and removing green maggots). Then I took this masterpiece of photographicalisational genius of the evening view. from the kitchen window.
Well, alright, it might not be that good exactly then..
. But it’s definitely a little better than my usual crap!

18:40hrs: , a rare but welcome pretty visitor arrived, dead on time too! ♥ She said how much better I looked that last week. She must have called in the middle of the four nights without any sleep and averaging 80 wee-wees per night. Boy, do I appreciate Richard’s care in getting me back to near normal! I hope he can catch up on sleep now. Sinead said she could smell the potatoes when she for out of the lift – not sure if that is good or not? She selected a can of pop and a nibble in thanks and departed. Feel lost again now, Hehehe!

I checked the potatoes in the oven. During a break in ‘Heartbeat’ on the box.
Ah, now I know why they smelt so! I’d sprayed them with olive oil and dropped a blob of BBQ sauce in each one. However, at first, I could not understand why, after two hours, they were still not cooked through yet. Eventually, it dawned on me. I’d only set the heat to 150°! Being the intelligent problem-solver I am, I turned it up to 200° and got back to watch my beloved ‘Heartbeat’ on the box.

I then checked the new Meridian Carer roster. It seems I have another caller coming at 21:45hrs ETA. To check that nothing is left on that shouldn’t be, and issue a fourth dose of Peptac. Tonight it says is calling. Another nice gal.

Why, what for, I’ve not got the foggiest, but…
Suddenly burst into giving me an almost industrial-level shoulder-shaking! None-stop for a good few minutes, I was beginning to worry about this, and it stopped abruptly. Thank heavens for that, I thought to myself…
She kicked off again, even more violently, this time. But slowly, it died off, this time after a minute or two. I can do without any more of these from her; thank you!

The Meridian 31:45hrs Care did not arrive.
But fear not, I remembered to take the Pentac. Shame she didn’t come, though: cause I left the hot water tap (faucet) running again; it’d run cold by the time I noticed it. I’d not put the plug in the sink, so I had no overflow problems to sort out, at least!

I got the meal served up.
The potatoes were tasty enough, and a few too many, methinks?

I enjoyed this simple feast, ate it on my knee, decorating my jammies and the recliner with droplets of BBQ sauce and bits of the potatoes and skin. Naughty Boy!
Took me ages to clean it all up afterwards. Hehe!

I was well tired when it came to settling into the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. Unfortunately: I plopped down into the seat from a greater height than I intended, landing joltingly, jarringly, and crushing  !
The pain left me feeling light-headed. But, of course, there was no cursing, howling, winching or feeling sorry for myself.

Thanks to the testicle-testing trauma, it took me a long time to get to sleep tonight. However, once I got off, I had a decent four uninterrupted hours of respite in the arms of Sweet Morpheus.
Grrreat!

Inchcock: Sunday 27th November 2022

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I found a page on the floor underneath the Hopewells 1964 E-Plan cabinet. The location of the other eight will have to remain a mystery.

Saturday evening: (All content lost? No idea what I did wrong, but after doing loads of work on this blog, I saved it and went on to make a Cartoon if sorts for Monday.
Lost the cartoon, cursed, and called me names.
No power of concentration left then. The constant pain, whatever position or what I did, is such a drain.
Sunday: I was woke woken up by . The lad gave me the medications, and I think we had a little natter; I did not move from the second-hand, £300, charity shop-bought, , crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. i knew that if I did, it would be agony, followed by ever great discomfort trying to take a pea that wasn’t there. Well,  the urine infection was winning hands-down here.
I decided to stay in the mock bed. I thanked Jozeph for his understanding of my situation and condition. Asked him to pick a cold drink of this choice from the fridge in thanks.

I was off asleep again in no time; the body and mind needed it, I think. It was 14:50hrs when I woke again!

I was still not fully aware of things and pottered about doing nothing; each time I moved, I needed a  wee-wee. By the time I’d got the trousers drooped, painfully sprinkled a few drops in the bucket – then got the picker-upperer to raise the trousers again, fought with the belt to secure the trews, I’d forgotten what I was going to do anyway.

I’ve never suffered as much with put pain getting the daily ablutions done before. The ankle ulcer was stinging away. The tight leg had rebloated, and I had a total of eight mini . A few shaving cuts, all minor.
Despite my trying hard to be careful throughout, I sadly caught my precious but, Oh, too swollen and tender , on the metal support bar edge – TWICE!
After the second event, I sat down on the Porcelain Throne for at least an hour and simply felt sorry for myself. Pathetic!. When I did a slow-motion walk into the door frame. Well, I’m sure any lads reading this will feel a twinge and winch of pain through the ether as was shaken, making contact with the door edge! .

I’m not sure of events for a while.
Maybe I fell asleep?
Found these two pictures of the front car park on Chestnut Way in front of the blocks of flats.
I might have t taken them on Saturday? Or Saturday, maybe Friday. Almost certain it was this week.

Didn’t feel like eating a meal or even less like making one. So out came the biscuits, and dunked them in some Glengettie tea. Nice! Thought it best not to have any more. I don’t think the urine-infections think it a good idea.
I fell asleep in the computer chair.
Waking up confused, but realised I had not got the done yet. So, I did them.

But what a shock the figures were!.

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Back into the Hypertension – 3 Red Zone.
If I’m dead, it would have been nice for someone to have just mentioned the fact to me? Hehehe
.
Evening Carer Riahana, (I think).

TTFN

Inchcock Today: Saturday 22nd October 2022

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I actually got some sleep last night. I admit, not a lot, but the sleep lasted more than for the last three nights put together – 5-hours!
I woke around 05:30hrs, and after pondering over what day it was and what needed to be tended to… out of the blue grew! I was sure that something favourite suspected, , was my most regularly committed one, of leaving a hot water tap running.

If anyone was taking a video or filming in the flat for the next ten minutes or so. They would have captured enough comedy material to sell a series of comedy sketches to a TV channel! Of course, it’s all just everyday life to me! Here’s how I remember it going:


❶ Flapped about to get free of the recliner, and instead of getting up on my feet, my bum hit the chair, then the carpet. Bump Bumped! But this only delayed me for a minute. Somehow I got up on my pins within seconds? (Or, did I) I soon regained a modicum of control in my mission to check every room.
❷ Even though I could feel and sense the blood coming from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, I had to do these checks; whatever happened!
❸ Into the kitchenette, all the usual checks, windows, oven, stove, microwave, slow cooker and the taps (faucets). All clear there…
❹ Checked the front door, which was locked as it should be. I did unlock it then, as with getting up late, there is a possibility of the Carer arriving early.
❺ Into the wet room – I gave the door frame a shoulder charge as I went in – Luckily though, and for the first time ever, I hit my left shoulder on the door – thus, I avoided waking up or disturbing or damaging the right Covid booster arm, by clouting the right shoulder. Having semi-satisfied , you can never guarantee this fully; I returned to the front room to get my clothes on and get the brain running.
Brian Ricks, Charlie Chaplin and Del Boy to have performed what happened as I got the trousers on, any better than I did. Of course, for them to do it, needed a script, but my performance and facial expression needed no acting. Again though, to be fair, I couldn’t see my face; bewilderment, I imagine, is one word anyone seeing it might happen to use. Here’s the rundown as best as I can explain it:
❼ I got the trews on and knew I would get the ablutions done next and medicate the poor . I quickly pulled the belt to close the buckle – (bearing in mind these belts were only bought 3 or 4 weeks ago from Amazon). The buckle shot off, hitting the computer screen at the other end of the room, and the perfect trouser drop (Comedy-wise) was performed! I later found the buckle pin, three rivets and an unidentified metal ring on the floor.
❽ The belt itself fell limply to the floor, hitting a !

This ended any of my enjoyment of or seeing the funny side of the occasion. And not a soul, other than me, to see the happening. It just doesn’t seem fair to me! I could have had a belated career as a comedy writer! Humph! Mind you, with my blog followers list being so high, I should be content. They both occasionally email me.
To the wet room next. , Teggies, teeth, and then shaving. Kept down to just two mini-ones. Then under the shower. After today’s start with the trousers, somehow, I enjoyed the unrushed showering session greatly. Oh, and the showering, I kid you not, was free!

I fear something of a mind-blank happened here!
When the memory returned, complete with the ‘brain-freeze’ results. I was in the right predicament because I did not know what I was doing on the computer in the slightest. I’d got the Blog open, CorelDraw, the Ode Writer on Word, the calendar and WordHippo all open! Something I never do; is open so many programmes, but there you are… as lost as I am, presumably.
On the memory pad on the side of the computer, it said, “Took photos”

Which I show here on the left. Apart from the fact that they obviously made bad efforts at photography, I can tell you nothing.

Ah, the next line, which may or not be helpful, says, ‘ Inspired?

It also appears that Carer Sam had been, and we had a chat and a laugh. And the Pentac bottle dose-pot, I found wet on the kitchen draining board. So I knew she’s been, I looked up, on the Meridian record folder. I can’t remember washing it, so I assume Sam did it for me? A vague memory of walking her to the front door and wishing well as she took the waste bag with her?
Aha, I vaguely remember doing this line. Took a photo of the flats in town, then zoomed in to take a close-up of the block. No reason why I did this on the pad.

I assume something witty, clever or interesting must have come into my mind? (They do that sometimes, you know – the last time was about 1966).

Found a note written on the wrong pad, and I realised it was for today, but only when I read it: Four visits to the Porcelain Throne in three hours! I bet I bored Carer Sam with that bit of news? Hahaha! Maybe not. Sorry the mind-blank to the memory away, now.

And after doing the checks again, I set about sorting out what it was I was up to with the computer. It must have taken me hours to get sorted… Well, partly understood. Then I got the Friday blog finished and posted off. By then, it was about 14:00hrs!

Pretty confused and not totally content with the mind-blanks increasing. Glad I’ve got the face-to-face with Dr Vindla coming up on Tuesday morning. I shall try to be a bit pushier when telling her the facts of what I’m going through. It will be interesting to see what she says, and I might learn if she is ignoring was worries, as it seems to be to me. But of course, as I am nowadays, I just don’t know.

The was Kylie who arrived, and she got the medications sorted. She was in a hurry, but she kindly read the first part of this blog about the trousers and said it read hilariously and that I should show it to the other Carers. Hehehe! That cheered me up magnificently! She took the bin bag with her as she left, and I clearly remember locking the door.

Oh, better do them, belatedly…