Inchcock's Day: Wednesday 7th April 2021

Well, not me! Now a billionaire...

Wednesday 7th April 2021

Maori: Wenerei 7 o Paengawhawha 2021

00:40hrs: After several failed hours of hopes of getting to sleep, I gave up! I got up on my feet and required the use of the Porcelain Throne; with a worrying sense of urgency, I suspected that Trotsky Terence was making a comeback! 

Whoopsiedangleplop:. What a session it was as well; a stinky-poo, red and brown monster torpedo, film coating of mucus on top. A painful, messy additional end-dollop arrived, and Little Inchy suffered PMs (Pre-Micturitional leakings). Well, I say leaking; it was like a jet? I made a right mess of myself and the wet room! Not only that, but I found some Maltezer-sized escapees on the floor when I was cleaning up! Not good at all! Embarrassing, but what can you do? 

The gastrointestinal oncologist doctor didn't believe this was happening when I told her about it at St Ann's medical centre. That was over fifteen months ago, and still, I'm suffering. Bruggerlations! Fair enough, she did ring up about four months ago to see how I was going on, not that I could hear what she was saying.

St Ann's Valley Medical Centre

Still, I have some happy memories of my last visit there. The crippling walk from the nearest bus stop, my not being believed when I got to see the doctor... I did get a half-hearted thank you for taking a sample of urine with me when I'd not been asked to. 

I was refused any more PPs (Protection Pants) but offered some useless pads to use. Then falling down the unavoidable steps on the way out with the walker guide. But the best thing was calling in the Co-op across the road. I got some bleach at 39p a bottle and real fresh bread, as I recall... Oh, and the Co-op lady said she saw me fall and really looked after me; she asked if she could help, reached up to get the bottles, put the things in the bag for me, and even wiped the cut chin with a wipe-tissue for me! She wished me well. Bless her! ♥ I think since then, I've spent over £260 on PP's. Humph!

I rambled on, off-track a bit there, didn't I? Sorry.

I returned to the computer and booted her up. Realising that I had a mammoth task on my hands in getting yesterday's updating done, with my going out and taking so many pictures, so decided to get the Health Checks done first for fear of forgetting to do them. 

Although the BP was still too high, it was down on yesterdays' reading, at SYS 164 and DIA 67. The pulse was well up, at 97 bpm. The body temperature at 36.5°c - 97.7 °f, still not too high, methinks?

I made some waste bags up, only two of them, and to my surprise, I found a parcel had been delivered. It was the Amazon anti-diarrhorea capsules. Just look at this lot! I can't see myself running out soon, especially as Constipation Konrad seems to be making a bit of a comeback and challenging Trotsky Terence for supremacy in the rear-end evacuations department. Hahaha! But things can and do change so quickly, I have to keep a supply of these and the Senna tablets in stock. Hogglesbumph!

I opened, checked them, and put them in the kitchen medical drawer. Then got carried away, slicing the last of the small potatoes I got from Iceland. I'm proud to report there were no cut fingers in prepping them! Smug-Mode-Used. I decided to make a mug of Co-op 99 tea to celebrate this little victory.

Whoopsiedangleplop:. Then it was payback time, for my innate smugness, in thinking how well I'd done in not giving myself any injuries with the knife slicing the spuds. I dropped the tub of 99 tea bags, and it fell, landing on my poor right foot toes! On the plus side, it didn't roll off and need any painful retrievals, and I was able to use the picker-upperer with ease, and no bags fell out!

I think perhaps, secretly, I was avoiding the battle to get the updating, with the associated hassles and frustrations of Googles Blogger's quirks, done?.

Before I could get back to the computer, another summoning from the innards to attend the Porcelain Throne arrived.

The toes were hurting, more so after the pot dropped on them. Tsk! At least it's only three more days before the Chiropodist gets to have a look at them and can cut the nails. Hurrah! 

The evacuation was almost duplicate of the first one, and I lost even more time having to clean up again! I washed up and back to the computer, by now the sun of up, so I diverted from blogging, yet again, to take a photo from the balcony of the beautiful view.

Finally, I made a start on the blog! It took me over five hours to get it done. It's now gone twelve o'clock! Gotten Himmel, and Unglefrogwonglingisations!

I got some cucumber sliced and pickled. Cider and distilled pickling vinegar, demerara sugar, and some pickling seeds added to the jar and gave it a good shaking up to dissolve the flavourings. It should be ready for tomorrow night to use. 

Stored the pot in the fridge.

Got the nosh prepped and served up. Sliced Piccolo tomatoes, pickled silverskin onions, garden peas, chicken legs and the sliced slow-cooked potatoes with seasoning. Grrreat! Flavour rating 8.8/10. I almost licked the plate afterwards. Haha!

Got the pots washed and made up another waste bag. Then, I got settled in the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, in search of sleep.

But it didn't arrive. No thought-storming to blame this time; in fact, the brain turned off for a while, I think. In the end, realising Sweet Morpheus was not going come, I rose up about 20:00hrs, took a wee-wee of surprising viciousness and persistency, got an iced lolly out of the freezer, and got on with updating this blog. 

I decided to get this posted to Blogger, as the editor's formatting was not changing the configuration of fonts and colour of its own accord at the moment. Fingers crossed!