Inchies Day: Saturday 8th May 2021 - Malfunctioning-mind, it deteriorated, and frit me a bit!

 

♥ TFZers Out and about - Oh, yes? ♥

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Saturday 8th May 2021

Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 8fed Mai 2021.

03:05hrs: Stirred into a life of sorts, reality and usuality returned as soon as I realised I required a wee-wee. So, I struggled out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner, and to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), and suffered a relatively weak, unwilling, put overly painful wee-wee. And at the moment, I'd ridden myself of the trickling fluid, low and behold the summoning from the innards arrived for me to attend the Porcelain Throne... So, I did, like a bat out of hell.

Whoopsiedangleplops: Well, I got Metal Mickey and limped rather niftily to the wet room. For what regrettably turned out to be only the first of several Trotsky Terence rules visits. Phoo! A black, giant-sized twisted, entangled torpedo was evacuated. Messy and pongy, it left me with a mammoth job of cleaning up afterwards. At least the one flush got rid of the misshaped, steaming torpedo. I was worn out by the time I'd sorted things out, and it was still only 03:30hrs! My spirits already sinking.

My EQ and confidence wained and went into 'What the hell's coming, next' mode! The answer, I imagine, lies with Doctor Fate and the mysteries of Winwood Heights. With their ghosts, wraiths, waifs, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries that haunt the flats, hallways and lobbies. Ever-seeking out Inchcock! I am ever-ready and willing to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes, and botherations, to scare, worry, and confuse me - successfully, I might add! But I might be wrong, of course...

I made a brew of Glengettie tea and took the morning medications; at least I was going to, but I realised that I had missed taking last night's dosages. Dang, bother and Flibblegonkackles!

Innocent Inchie Lie? I took them and must remember to take this morning's later on. Of course, there is a remote hundred-to-one shot that I may forget to - but from somewhere, eerie confidence came to me, and I knew I would not forget this time. How? Why? I've no idea! All part and parcel of dementia, I suppose? We'll see.

I got the computer turned on and put the TV on with subtitles, so I can glance at it to see the last election results as they come through. Just what I needed, something else to distract my withered attention. Mind you, the brains all over the place this morning, so it shouldn't bother me. Most of the time, I forgot it was on anyway.

I got on with updating yesterdays blog, not getting it finished until very late in the morning. The grey-cells confusionalisation was very disturbing, and I kept wandering off track, doing something else, and forgetting where or what I was doing earlier. Still, I got it done and emailed the link.

Went on Facebooking, but for some reason, it was hard work (although enjoyable) concentrating, and I spent over two hours struggling with it - and convinced I got more than one thing wrong. This bugged me.

Whoopsiedangleplops: The Throne summoning no. two arrived. So, off to the Porcelain again. It was even messier than the first visit. (I'm getting fed up with this) Gooey than ever, although a tad less funking. The size of the bent smouldering torpedo was larger, enough to tear things in the tube on its way out and cause Harold's Haemorrhoids to bleed a bit. The Germoloid ointment soon eased things for me.

Accifauxpa: Also, this reminded me to take the morning medications. I took a poo softener and extra pain killer with the regulars tablets and capsules. Taking the Codeine, I stubbed my toe on the swiveller leg, fell backwards, and mercifully landed on the recliner arm because I got back to the computer chair. But this little episode set Back-Pain-Brenda off. It's no surprise that I have never won owt on the lottery, is it? Tsk!

I glanced at the newsletter and picked out these heartwarming stories for you to peruse at your leisure.

I seemed to be getting more mind-muddled as time went on. So, I thought a mug of Thompsons Punjana and a club biscuit would, or might, help. So, off to the kitchen and made a mug of tea... I got myself in a pickle again when Neuropathic Pete had the right arm and leg shaking away. Only for a few seconds, but it was deadly timing, just as I'd picked up the cup!

Whoopsiedangleplop-Accifauxpa: I was putting the milk in the mug when the shaking kicked off. It didn't half make me jump when it spilt out all over the right hand. I'm also getting fed up with doing this.

Whoopsiedangleplop: Then, Porcelain Throne call number three arrived! At least this one was not as drastic as the first two were. But, for some reason or other, Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding? After cleaning things up, getting the Clotrimazole cream to stay on was difficult. In fact, getting to the wound was more painful than the medication application. I'm also getting fed up with having to do this. 

On the cheerier side, the feet looked even more evenly balanced in size today. Although one leg looked a different colour to the other one? Well, to me anyway, possibly from Saccades Sandra's input?

I  think the red on top of the left foot was due to the different slippers I'd been wearing, so nothing to fret over there. He says, full of confidence! I changed back into the old ones, and the new ones found their way into a black waste bag.

Sister Jane rang, how kind of the sweet, caring young woman. She was a ballerina, you know, in Sicily, she gave up the championship ice skating to do it. I just don't know how she found time to get her Scholarships at the London School of Economics and Political Science! Hehehe!

She'd kindly given me the name of a new word for me.

'Onio-Maniac'. Pointing out that it suited me down to the ground. It means Shopperholic! That is a 'Compulsive buying-shopping disorder'.

I fear she's right.

We had a natter, but it was hard for me to follow things. I really am getting worse with this, going from one subject to another and losing track of the conversation.

But we did manage a smile or two, and I was suitably told off a few times. Pet (hubby) was about to venture out to a farmers market, out into the pouring rain. I'd love to know what he was to buy? 

I'm getting a bit weary again now. I'll get an early nosh, methinks. Oh, no! I've not been on WordPress to have a look at the new posts. I'll do that then—some good stuff on today.

Off to investigate the means available to satisfy my coenaculous nature and phagomania (food!).

I didn't make too much this time. All cold stuff, Surami sticks, tomatoes, Marmite cheese disc, soft pitta bread, buttered a bit, and a lemon mousse.

After speaking with Jane earlier, the Thought Storms prevented me from getting to sleep for a few hours. My failings, inabilities, failing mental and physical health, how to increase the font size on Blogger, Hello, better get up for another wee-wee, past bad judgements... on and on... Cragglebratworthy!