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The laundry, containing three nightgowns, I have another that I’m wearing at the moment that is getting a smidgeon whiffy, appears to have been lost or returned to the wrong client. I’m scared to send any more stuff to the laundry. The value of these dressing gowns is infinitesimal… no, sorry, I meant inestimable; Purely for the pain relief they give me from wearing trousers with the 
tube inserted into Little Inchie, thus causing agony, and 
.
So, when indoors, I do not wear trousers at all, just one of the now sadly gone missing at the laundry dressing gowns.
Tomorrow, I must get the trews on again to go to the QMC for the first brain scan. Lift arriving at 12:30hrs – lift home at 15:30hrs. Easy-Link confirmed this on a telephone call today. Bless them. The thought of having no dressing gown to wear when I return is galling. I dare not go around with just a gown on when someone other than Carers is due.
I can almost feel the pain from trouser-wearing already. Argh!
There may not be a blog tomorrow – I’ll see how things go, time-wise.
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With no larger night bags available – I came close to having an explosion of urine showering this morning. Talk about overfull!
The ankles were a smidge swollen, and the ankle ulcers were more prominent than they usually are. No pains, though.
After a pot of porridge, onto the computer.
Two photos of rare morning glimpses of the sun.
Not good ones, mind.
An absolute pleasure doing some pareidoliaing
Especially with these cloud-creatures in view.
In the afternoon, the sky became almost of an
oh, so pretty Sepia colouring.
Bootiful!
At last, the urine had cleared on the third emptying.
But, on the seventh one… Oh, dearie me!
Silly me got these out of order. These
ones are from the waking half-hour when.
I wandered around the rooms in the dark
taking pictures. Why? No idea!
But here they are…
Tatters in the slow cooker.
Suddenly not feeling very well.
I’ll pack up now, don’t want to be
unprepared for the Brain scan tomorrow.
AMAZING (To me) SUNSET SHOTS
Early in the evening, ghost-clouds, Awesome.
Back to the brown beauties!.
Gone from view sun, the sky goes back to blue?
Nightie-night!
What a series of changes in colour. Never seen this before.
came again. No signs of the laundry being found. This could be costly; three dressing gowns, a bath towel, woolly hats, the Carers’ chair throw, and likely more stuff that went into the bag and will have to be replaced. That is if I don’t mysteriously find the bag hidden somewhere… and if they cannot be located, of course. There is always a chance they may come across them. I kept thinking maybe there were not taken and searching the room… repeatedly; but I never found the bag.
I’ve had to order some more dressing gowns, but can’t get them delivered before next week, cost me well over £100 quid.
Not much goes right for me… You might have noticed? Huh!
No meal tonight as such. Had a pot noodle, made and added some gravy, and dunked a bread roll in it. Nice!
Got my head down. Nodded off pretty quickly, and it felt as if I had a dream that went on all night. I didn’t wake up once! But the dream, that was of my journeying on a bus somewhere, and it kept getting lost… things seem to be in the 1950s, a conductress in the Bristol Lodekka bus.
..
It went on and on…
Ah, Well, Evening all!
03:40hrs: I woke with bits of a dream lingering, and wrote down some scribbled reminders to use here: In the dreaming, I was no longer the wiseacre, but a sage, a patriarchal doyenne, a lector: I was up high on a stage, with thousands of people around that wanted to ask me for advice, guidance… I arrive late; the trolley bus broke down… there were guards or bodyguards, each wearing Robin Hood outfits? 
It was a quick but painful, messy, smelly, sticky evacuation. Cleaning up and medicationing after the event, took me ages and was not a comfortable experience. 
Stubbing my tender uncut toenails against the seat raisers metal legs, was not a good idea either. Argh! Gragglespitgurgle! 
Cleaned up and off to the kitchenette. Did the Health Checks. The hemadynamometer indicated that the BP SYS was still going back up higher. Cragknackles! Took the medications, and then I made a brew of my beloved Thompsons Punjabi tea.
e sky looked beautiful again, the clouds seemed to be thickening. 
I managed to take a shot out of the unwanted, unliked, rain letting in, photographer and old people-hating designed new kitchen windows, of Chestnut Walk. Not many folks around yet.
The showering had a few annoyances, I’m afraid. The showerhead had a life of its own, and this resulted in about five dropsies! How the heck it hasn’t been broken yet, is beyond me! 
I departed and got some clothes on, well, someone just might call on me. Haha!
I got the other white towel out, got it on the stand-up airer, warming ready to be used tonight. 
As I made a mug of Glengettie tea, the clouds seemed to be getting thicker, but no rain. 
I made a mug of Thompsons Punjabi tea. The evening medications were taken, better late than never! 
I came back to life. (Well, that was a bonus to start with, Hehehe!) Felt weary, looked at the clock, which indicated to me that it was 00:25hrs. The cal to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and almost started on its own, a bit of urgent buttock-clenching, helped me get out of the £300 second-hand recliner and to the wet room, barely in time. 
They are to be working again on the upgrading of the service, on Thursday 7th February. Well, last month when they did some work, they left the service more unreliable than it was before! Hey-Ho! 
I set about my self-given tasks. 
back in its box. There were foam sheets etc. that would not go back in, as I expected. But it is now transportable, at least. I felt rather semi-pleased with myself! Smug-Mode-Adopted! 
I g
ot the newest slow-cooker out of its box using the steak-knife. Good job I was in the kitchen at the time, it gave me quick access to the cold-water tap, Germolene and finger-plasters from the medical drawer nearby. Humph! 
The ablutions had to be done, and with rushing now, the risk of an Accifauxpa was high, I kept telling myself not to take risks. (Do I listen?) 
Back to the flat, I got readied and made my way down, though the link-passage, and to the ILC’s Interrogation and Body-Searching Office in Winwood Court. Hehehe! 
I dropped of the bus near the old Palligh de Dance, and walked over the two sets of pelican crossing lights needed, to get to Glasshouse Street. 
I came out of the Poundland shop and decided I had the time to walk along, taking some more photographicalisations. This was taken down Clumber Street, I was getting some rum looks from the Nottinghamians, that indicated their disapproval of my actions. Oh, dear! 
So I took another, zoomed-in this time. 
I poddled along, quietly contented in my own fashion. I even tried to whistle, but the hole left by my last tooth abstraction made it hard work. Which shows how long it is since I decided to whistle blithely! Sad innit!
Other buses needing access had joined the queue by the time I got to the corner. Where it became plain what the problem was, the dreaded roadworks! 
At the top of Queen Street, the view with the sky perfect for photographicalisationing was an amazingly good opportunity for a moody photo to be taken. Thankfully it came out decent enough to use. I checked on the camera screen and spotted another traffic problem. 
Surprisingly, the L9 bus was on time? (Beats me how he did it, brilliant!) I was the sole passenger until two bus stops later. No Winwoodonians were picked up en route, but I got out the crossword book. I got a couple of old clues as well. Swank-Mode-Engaged!
I didn’t meet anyone on the trip through the Winchester link-passage, the New Winwood Social room, the Winwood Foyer, the Woodthorpe court link-passage, and into Woodthorpee’s lift foyer. 
Warmed the garden peas, got two cheesy cobs buttered, sliced an apple, put some mini pork and pickle pies cut in half on the plate. Got down and tucked into the meal, but I’d again overdone it. 
The Throne session was not a good one. Massive, slow and messy with a surprising amount of discomfort. At least it gave me a chance to have a go at the crossword. It was painful when I stood up after so long sat with bent knees. Arthur Itis wasn’t happy about it at all. I recalled bits of a horrible dream I’d had, a bully of a shop manager kept throwing me out, and threatening me with the sack?
A clean-up, and off to the kitchen. I got the kettle on and took the medications. 
The fingers were tingling and a tad annoying. 
And then… I only need the Porcelain Throne again! Arthur Itis is now as mad as he has ever been with me. This is not good! And I have to keep getting up for a wee-wee! They were all, up to now, of the PLSE (Persistent-Long-Spraying-Everywhere) style! Which some else to fret about, I just cannot control the evacuations at all. Just keep kitchen towels and disinfectant nearby to use, and a tube of Phorpain gel 
for Arthur’s knees. I think it’s fair to say, a modicum of depression is building up! The pins (legs) looked the same pot-mark-wise as earlier, but they seem to be getting a smidge more colour? Just a couple of more blood-papules. I’ll recheck them after the ablutions are done, this is a rarity! Hahaha! 
I had to absquatulate for a wee-wee, this was a bit different, of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) style. I got the grey bucket emptied, rinsed and sanitised, and decided to get the handwashing done. Going to be a slow job getting the jammie-bottoms dry. The socks and long-sleeve t-shirt will be okay, being thinner.
I took the black, and recycling bags down to Caretaker Stewart room. We shared some Rabelaisian humour, handed over the nibbles, and then returned to the flat, and checked to see how far on the Tracker had gone. Perhaps he’s having his dinner? The driver who is taking it to the dispatch place, I wonder where that is? Bit it is still hours away from there, then someone has to come to Nottingham with the stuff. It’s going to be hard to stay awake. Oh, dearie me! Dangwangles and damn!
his work. Ahem! 
bigger) leg.
02:10hrs: Trying to sleep was abandoned. After a night of sleeplessness, unit a ten minute-spell, when I did nod-off and had a nightmare of nightmares! A phantasma that consisting of just about everything I have done wrong in my life drifting through it! Misinterpretations, boo-boos, failures, errors, bad choices, goofs, faux pas, over and underestimations, inadvertencies, snafus, aberrations, and misdiagnoses. The dream even made me feel guilty about the typographical errors brought on by the peripheral neuralgia and failing memory! I had a hatred of myself and my actions, toying with my conscience! I was well-pleased when I woke up and thought it best not to risk my falling back to sleep and returning to that worryingly lurid and grotesque nightmare. It’s almost unheard of, a night-dream getting to me, but this one did! Oy Gevalt! 
I took the medications, and made a super-tasty brew of Gelengettie tea! 
itching in the leg started again. Out of interest, I looked up ‘Causes of itching under the skin legs’. Ahem! This is what I found on the web: Dracunculous: Guinea Worm Disease: The female can grow to 31 inches! Sorry I looked now! Haha!
and biscuits again, I suppose? I’ll have some of the Manner Lemon wafers, and then try out the new ankle support straps. (Failure yet!)
I walked along Upper Parliament Street to the big traffic island with Derby Road. The sun was out, but nit very warm with it, and the people of Nottingham seemed to be in a generally good mood. No policemen were seen at all, and the pins and Arthur Itis were doing very well for me! 
I was phlegmatic about the situation, though, it was almost as if apanthropinisation had taken me over. I just took this photo and calmly turned around, back down the Derby Road hill. Which is where the problems came into play: The three-wheeler-walker does not like going downhill! I got to the Albert Hall junction and had to go up a steep kerb, that I managed, but as I set off again, the trolley went over after hitting a broken paving slab sticking up! I manoeuvered myself somehow, so as to avoid going over with it, though. Innit amazing the things you keep in your three-wheeler-walker bag? I noticed this as I struggled a bit, to retrieve the comprehensive selection of hand-out nibbles, pen, crossword book, an apple, receipts etc. and bits and pieces that had accrued, and spilt out onto the pavement! Hehehe! 
After the close-call with the food-delivery cyclist ‘Herbert’, I was in a niggly mood and made my way to the L9 bus stop on Queen Street, taking this shot of King Street, on the way. 
03:45hrs: What a nightmare that was that I just had! It followed one earlier, about my younger days, with a relative of long ago, in the flat, telling me “Not to bother, failure, pain, and frustration are all that is on the cards for you, youth!” The later one, was a right mixed bag, a ghost or spirit coming out of the clouds and down into the flat, and taking me away with it, up into the sky-shadows and beyond – where a giant underground cave was being used to keep dead souls contained? Lots of other stuff, but this is all that was clear enough for me to remember. Great, I get some much-needed sleep, and it’s filled with nightmares! Lucky or what? Hahaha! 
I took the medications and made a brew. I nipped onto the balcony to take this shot through the finger shredding, rain letting windows that cannot be reached to be cleaned. The blue again view, was lovely. 
I made a start on this blog, as far as here. 
I also got the oven warming ready to use. 
Then off to the wet room, to do the ablutions. The stubbed middle-toe was looking on the mend, so much better now. Of course, as to when the next toe-stubbing will take place, is in the hands and power of Jonah, the Spirit of Whoopsiedangleplops. My Inchcockskian Evil-eyed-habinger, nuncio, and stormy-petrel of bad-luck, accifauxpas, jinx-supplier, and Avant Courier, to decide! 
Plenty of dropsies today, the soap, the sponge, the razor (x3), toothbrush, toilet cleaner bottle, mouthwash bottle, the shower head, olive oil tube, Haemorrhoid cream tube, and the last one, the dang chair I was carrying back into the shower after cleaning up! Bit of good luck there, no injuries at all! Smug-Mode-Engaged!
To the kitchen to check on Josie’s potatoes. Took a picture from the kitchen window, showing the shadow of Woodthorpe Court, cast over the view. 
, and some of them did not work anyway. I certainly cannot here the weak jingle when someone rings. I have eight missed calls for last week alone! 
the spuds out of the oven. But, it was a nice, if hard to hear due to the echo on the line. 
individual lemon cake, and a naughty but oh, so-nice Limoncello dessert.
I washed the empty jars and left them in view, so I might just possibly, see them and remember to take them down to the recycling bin in the morning. Or, not!
I had my potatoes prepped at the same time as Josie’s, and got them in the oven to brown-off. A beef slice, beetroot, mushrooms, garden peas, tomatoes, and some Poppit salt & vinegar crisps with the added potatoes when they were done. 
I checked over the pins. Well, they didn’t look too bad, fluid retention wise at all.
Hello, the Sys has gone down, at last, so has the pulse and dare I say it, the weight! Can’t understand why the temperature is down, though? Not worried mind, it has been lower than that before. 
I had another SPSHPLWW and went to get some brekkers. I’ve no idea why, but I fancied trying a pot of the Sweet & 
Sour Noodles that I bought yesterday in Mansfield.
I am to get any more of the pots or teabags, this says I’ll have to go to Mansfield to buy them as no one else sells them! And that is if they have some left in stock. Mmm! Tsk! 
I set about updating the Tuesday blog. 
Made a start on doing this post at last. 
Humph! 
Nosh in the oven.