New Medication

I'll be perfectly honest and admit that discussing depression isn't the easiest of subjects. It has hit me quite hard since Carol died. I have had various forms of medication and  it's not just that form of medication I have had, sleeping tablets mostly. I was put on Zopliclone, but, having taken it for around 2 weeks, it hasn't really had much of an effect. I have got a routine to get myself to sleep before going to bed: a soak in a hot bath and then a hot, milky drink, of Ovaltine and then, just before I get into bed, take the medication. But I only sleep a few hours, probably waking at 2a.m. or a bit after and then I'm unable to get back to sleep. Usually I have to get up in the night to go to the toilet (just something you have to live with as you get older, I'm afraid.) I rang my surgery to get an appointment with my doctor on Monday, but then found I couldn't get one until later in the week, on Thursday, when a doctor would ring. It tied in with the delivery of the fridge/freezer. Then I got a call at mid-morning, around 11-11.30. I explained to the doctor what I needed, and he suggested increasing the dosage of the Zopliclone, and explained what was going on with my sleeping, or perhaps, not sleeping. Also, depression reared it's not insubstantial head (what Winston Churchill described as his 'black dog.') He suggested another anti-depressant (I forget which one) and said he'd send the prescription to Lloyd's in Sainsbury's, but after about 5 minutes he rang back to ask me if I was allergic to any medication, or any of the previous anti-depressants I had been prescribed. I said that, years ago, when I was prescribed another brand. it made me feel awful. I found it quite difficult to judge when to cross the road, so I didn't get run over by the passing traffic, and just a feeling of nausea and feeling light-headed. As a result, he suggested I came into the surgery for a proper doctor's appointment, and it was made for the next day, Friday, at 3.40, with my registered doctor. So I went for that appointment. I have now been given Temazepam 10 mg. Tablets to take just before I go to bed and Sertraline 100 mg to take in the morning. I slept reasonably well as a result, but in the morning I was reluctant to take the Sertraline because I wasn't sure what the side-effects would be. Having taken two at around 9.30, it took a while before they had an effect (I know that most medication don't really work for you until you've taken them for a period, probably a month, but I began to feel nauseous and later on I had to rush to the toilet. (There's no point in explaining in too much detail what I mean, but you can guess.) I think the Temazepam left me feeling slightly unsteady on my feet earlier this morning, and as such, I wouldn't have been safe to drive (which is what the warning is on the packet they come in from the pharmacy.) I was earlier put on Diazepam, which isn't a full-blown anti-depressant, but seemed to help me sleep, but, unfortunately, because they can become addictive, you can't take them for much longer than a month. I have to go back and see the doctor mid-january, to discuss any reaction I might have to any of these medications and to probably see if there is an alternative which I can take which isn't addictive or at least have side-effects.

Road Works

A couple of days ago I noticed a couple of men walking along Golden Drive, spraying marks on the road surface. It has been in a fairly poor condition for some while, great chasms along the centre. I think the roads around here, particularly those within each grid square, were really cheaply constructed, looking like they were laid in sections, with a sort of seam where the two sections of tarmac meet and they have gradually shrunk apart, leaving a sort of crack, so when it rains, these rifts or cracks fill up with water and then, in the winter, when there's frost and snow, when it then freezes, the expansion of the ice breaks the road up further. This has been the case quite clearly at the entrance from Saxon Street, which has since been patched up in a rather cheap method which was also used along the road near my house. Now the Council is coming back to do a far better job, using the more traditional method of using a pneumatic drill to dig out the old tarmac and then the workmen shovel in tarmac in the hole and then use a road roller or one of those machines that 'bounces' (for want of a better word.) to press down the tarmac. I'm not so sure they don't put down a layer or rubble or grit before they put in the tarmac. But a notice was put up a couple of days ago to warn motorists that the work was about to commence. Today being the day when the work would be done. I went out to Sainsbury's just after 9 o'clock this morning and had forgotten about this work and the possibility that I wouldn't be able to get back in to my parking space in front of the house. I saw the 'Road Closed' sign but ignored it, because I wanted to get back home with my shopping fairly sharpish as there were some items which needed to go in the freezer before they thawed. There was no work being carried out and this didn't start in ernest until well past the time I got back home. As I write, I can see out of the window where they workmen have filled in some of th holes with tarmac, but it now looks a bit patchy. I know this is a cheap job and we should be grateful for any repairs, but it would shortly have been better to completely remove the surface of the road and replace it completely, but perhaps that's expecting far too much. Be thankful for small mercies, as someone or other said.

I wanted to get a doctor's appointment. I just need to chat to my doctor about the medication I've been on and whether they are actually working. Just having 10 because diazepam is a controlled medication and you can only be prescribed that many may be in my best interests, but it's annoying to have to keep ringing to get a repeat. It didn't take long to get through this time and when I did get to speak to a receptionist I was told that, Doctor Haye, wouldn't be available to speak to until Wednesday.

I then rang Willen Hospice. I eventually spoke to a lady and said that I thought I needed further cerement counselling and she said that it might be a couple of days before they could set something up. I told her I had been going to the coffee mornings in John Lewis restaurant and then she said that it was herself who had set up the extra coffee morning in the John Lewis Express Bar, because there are so many people who need care and support who have a connection to Willen. Now I just have to wait until they ring me to set up this counselling session.

(Friday) I woke this morning to what I thought was the sound of rain, and it wasn't until I stuck my head out of the bedroom window that I realised that it was indeed raining. So Alfie was somewhat disappointed that he didn't get his routine walk around Eaglestone Park. But I don't fancy having him soaked to the skin and myself soaked, so it will have to wait until the rain either eases off or the stops completely. It was quite muggy yesterday evening, so the rain has eased the temperature considerably.

(Friday) I had a telephone call this morning from a lady who works for the N.H.S. It would appear that someone at  Ashfield Medical Centre has passed on my details to a new service which hopes to be able to support people in my situation, not only with bereavement counselling, but who has health issues such as mine. This sounds the sort of service that I could benefit from. She said that they could come out and visit me at home, two of them, one being a nurse, and could give me contacts of organisations which might possibly give me support. So they are visiting me on Wednesday next week to have a chat and see how they can help. So, this is making me feel a good deal more relaxed about things in general. All this since I met Doctor Ben when I went to see Danny on Ward 22 last week. He has a remarkable way with patients and Carol always got on with him very well. Some doctors might have the head knowledge and be good at their job, but then there are those who don't know how to deal with patients, particularly when it's something like cancer. He certainly had a knack of being able to understand the emotional side of what was, in effect, a terminal illness. It's thanks to him last Friday that I will now get the help and support I need.

Later I went to the Oaktree Centre to have something for lunch in the recently reopened cafe, nothing spectacular, just a cheese and salad sandwich and a latte, which was really excellent. I sat and spoke to John and Margaret, the couple who so kindly drove me to Worcester the other week to enable me to see my newest grandson. My N.H.S. manual handling training came in handy when I had to help with a wheelchair-bound lady who was stuck in the disabled toilet. No lifting of your service-user or client (depending on where you are working, to use the correct terminology.) but we were able to extricate the lady and all very successfully achieved.

Hospital Visit

(Friday) I've been to visit one of the leadership team from Shenley Christian Fellowship, who is currently in Milton Keynes Hospital with some sort of leg infection. I have him on Facebook and he's taken a photograph to show the extent of the infection, and how his leg has blown up (if that's the right way to describe it.) and not looking nice. As it's such a short walk to the hospital, I decided to walk, thus making it easier because I wouldn't have to drive and then find a space to park the car. I found out he was in ward 22 and had a vague recollection where it was, because it was one of the wards Carol was on at some stage or other. Once there, I totally forgot where it was, thinking it was up the stairs when you enter from near the Cardiology department, but then, having enquired of a member of staff, that it's not actually in the main building, but on it's own, nor a short walk from the cafeteria and the shop. It then dawned on me that it was close to the M.R.I. scan unit. as far as I remember, just over the fire road (called, presumably, because that would be where fire engines would come in if the hospital caught fire.) and close to the courtyard which was set up with tables with umbrellas on them and where they had a barbecue last year, as part of the 70th Anniversary of the foundation of the N.H.S., and a BBC television crew set up cameras to interview staff and shown on Look East, live that evening, a day when I went to see Carol on Ward 22 and during that exceptionally hot summer we had last year. Ward 22 is upstairs and on the ground floor is the Endoscopy department, where Carol had to go for a scan at the beginning of the process which eventually gave the diagnosis that she had bowel cancer. Not the best memory to have, but still part of the same story, unfortunately.

I went up the stairs to the ward entrance and had to press the button beside the door to gain entrance. I think it has a camera on it so that staff on reception can see who's wanting to enter. I had to press several times before someone came to let me in, I think one of the doctors.

I had no idea where on ward 22 Danny was. It's not like a general ward, where you have patients in a sort of communal area, each with curtains that pull round on a track whenever you need privacy, a bedside chest for your personal belongings and a table on wheels that moves up and down and on which you have your meals. But on this ward there are separate rooms, some single, but a couple, like the one Carol was on, had four beds, and they had the use of their own bathroom and toilet (which I soon discovered I wasn't supposed to use, something to do with cross-infection, although I could use a toilet on the main body of the ward.) As I walked along the corridor, hoping to find the nurse's station, which is usually central to any hospital ward, and which is where there is usually a receptionist and ward administrator/manager, and where the door to the ward is opened when you press the door button outside in the corridor, I came upon the doctor who cared for Carol and was responsible for her pain control. Doctor Ben, but I don't remember his surname. A very easy to talk to young man and very good at his job, and was seen on occasion when Carol was in Willen Hospice.

He turned to me and spent some time chatting to me. It was obvious that he knew of Carol's passing, well, he would have known, working as he did at Willen and spending a lot of time with us, trying to get Carol's awful pain under control, which was the main reason she went into Willen Hospice. I can talk about this now, write it on here, but only a few months ago, I would have found writing this extremely traumatic, but actually, but writing about it now, it's sort of therapeutic. He asked me how I was coping, and I said that it was a sort of roller-coaster ride, up and down, at the moment, more down. I told him I had been prescribed medication to help me sleep, and was currently on Diazepam which was helping me calm down as well as sleep, but that I was getting panic attacks (I don't know why.) and was caused mostly because of being messed around my various government departments regarding benefits and also, not having my rent paid in full by Housing Benefit. He asked me if I was getting any support. I said I had been to Willen and had some bereavement counselling, but it had finished because the lady who counselled me didn't think I needed any further support. I said that I had been to Macmillan to see the counsellor there, but I was told what the Willen lady had said and that I was moving forward, especially with my volunteering at Camphill. He told me that I should go back to my doctor as the N.H.S. should have some sort of support for me in my situation. Perhaps going back to get support from Willen Hospice might be part of the answer. I'll have to wait and see.

I wasn't sure exactly which room Danny was in, so Dr Ben asked a nurse, who wasn't sure and had to consult a list, but eventually we discovered which room it was. I walked round the ward, which is so much quieter than the average ward. I remember when I was in hospital after my first heart attack in 2006, on the C.C.U. (Coronary Care Unit) at Bedford Hospital, there was a corridor which passed more or less straight through the ward, and, even in the middle of the night, you'd get people walking through, almost always talking at full volume, and then there was a noisy refrigeration unit on the roof outside the window which made the most awful sounds all through the night. And on top of that you had new patients being bought in, on beds usually, and the nurses weren't exactly quiet.

I was directed to Danny's room. A single room. His wife Chris was there, but no sign of Danny. He was in the bathroom. For some strange and totally unaccountable reason he couldn't open the door. If it would have been me I would have been stressed, because the thought of being trapped in a room with a door which I couldn't open wouldn't be a pleasant experience. I don't like enclosed spaces at the best of times, but being stuck in a bathroom or toilet when the door doesn't unlock would be my worst nightmare. Most N.H.S. facilities, usually toilets, have similar locks which are usually easy enough to open (I recall the bathroom when I worked as a Support Worker at Country Cottage in Everton, part of the N.H.S. Learning Disabilities Service, where the bathroom had similar locks to those in the hospital and all the equipment, grab-rails, waste bins with that strange mechanism that you weren't supposed to push down with your hand and coloured yellow, even the taps and shower units and flooring were the same.) so I had a vague idea how to get out, even if it meant pulling the red cord which would call a nurse to your assistance. Then suddenly Danny appeared, but not from the door into the main room. I presumed there was a second door which opened out into either the corridor or the adjoining room. He looked pained. The leg which is causing so much trouble, probably an infection, is bound up with bandages but it's a bright red, from what you can see. He looked in real pain and managed to get to the bed and lie on it. But in these wards there are never enough chairs. Usually a high-backed one with padding for the patient, but visitors get to sit on plastic chairs. They may be one in the room, but if more visitors come then you have to hunt them down, usually stacked elsewhere on the ward. I remember several years ago, when I had a brief stay in hospital, following a rather prolonged angina attack which meant I had to remain in hospital for a couple of days, Carol needed to sit down and sat on the bed. Just never do that! It's against the rules. There was a very officious woman of indeterminate age (I think her role was probably ward administrator, but I'm not sure, but she might have been a volunteer.) Carol got told off for sitting on the bed and when she started reading my notes (which were kept in a folder in a slot at the end of the bed, she got even more of a telling-off! Even though we were husband and wife, she wasn't supposed to look at my notes, which could have been read by anyone who came on the ward. Now, with new computerised technology, all notes are stored on a computer system (which was being started up whilst Carol was in hospital.) so it would now be very difficult for anyone without the relevant password to get into such personal and sensitive material. All patients, when being admitted to a ward, has to have a paper wrist band put on, which shows your name, date of birth and has a bar code which is read by a scanner when a  nurse comes to do your 'Obs,' or gives out your medication.

Several nurses came in to do the various checks, to do the obligatory 'Obs,' give medications and check Danny's leg, which looks redder and as painful as ever. All these checks done by technology. Then Carline Swann arrived, another member of S.C.F., who I have seen in church but have not had an opportunity to speak to. She seems to know a great deal about nursing and care (not sure what her job is exactly.) and as a result of her arrival another chair was required. Another difficulty of these small rooms, never enough space when you have several visitors requiring seating. And those plastic chairs which are in all these wards for visitors, made of plastic and not as comfortable as they might be. I think they have them as they would be easier to clean for hygiene purposes, but you begin to slip off the seat after a while. So, by this time it was my time to leave and bade farewell, just hoping and praying that Danny's leg heals soon so he can leave hospital and return to his home.

Change For Change Sake

I've been to Bleak Hall Motors after 9 this morning (Thursday) to book the Renault Captur in to have it's annual MoT. I discovered that the current MoT runs out on 8th August, so it's as well I had thought to have it done. It's booked in to be done at 1p.m. on Monday. I just hope it doesn't need much doing to it to pass. I have a feeling that the brakes might need doing as last time it was MoT'd they said one was in need of replacing. The other thing I was told was that, because it's a diesel car, the timing belt will need replacing before December, another expense, but it has to be done. It has something to do with how the pistons are timed. It can't be left, but with my financial situation, it will have to be done in the next month after my pension has gone into my account. It will cost around £300 or so.

As I was driving along Standing Way, going to Bleak Hall and was turning right on the roundabout, a car very nearly hit me, speeding across without stopping. Another couple of feet and he would have hit me. No wonder my nerves are a wreck after driving. Stupid idiot, it's people like him who make the roads a battlefield and are responsible for high motor insurance premiums. I wouldn't be surprised if this youth, because I saw him as he sped by, doesn't have any insurance, so if he had hit me, goodness knows what would have happened. Scary.

From Bleak Hall I drove to Sainsbury's. I had to collect medications I only recently ordered over the phone, one of them being Diazepam. I was surprised that the Bisoprolol which had only been ordered a day or so ago was ready for collection. I have heard from the pharmacist at Lloyd's that the procedure for ordering will be changing in September. I won't be able to order as I currently do, by merely ringing Lloyd's and giving them the medications on my repeat list. They contact Ashfield Medical Centre to get the doctor to provide the prescription, which is signed and then emailed to the pharmacy. But from September I will have to order direct from Ashfield. I can set up an on-line account with the surgery and use that to order what I need to have on repeat. It worries me that this isn't going to work. I don't think I trust the system. I will be on edge that if I order that the surgery will get the order and then contact Lloyd's to make up the order. I feel sorry for the older patients who don't have access to the internet, let alone a computer, and wouldn't have any idea how to use one, so how are they expected to reorder their repeat medications? Does it mean they have to go to the surgery and make a paper order? Am I expected to do that? Why change a system which is working so well? It has been so easy, just to ring in my order, which I do when there are enough days for order to go through before my stock runs out. Some crazy pen-pusher somewhere, with no idea of the dress and upset this will cause seems they have to change things for change sake. If enough people were to complain I reckon it could be left alone. It's the people who waste such things as appointments, make them and never actually go to them, wasting N.H.S. resources in a really negative fashion.

Friday. Noon. It's a bright and sunny day. But the sun keeps going in and out. One minute, Bright, the next, it clouds over. Never mind. I'm actually bored silly. If Carol was here, we'd be going out and about, to Whipsnade, probably London, one of the National Trust properties, Wimpole Hall perhaps. But she's not, and my life's empty. I mustn't get myself upset, but it's days like these when the loneliness is the worst.

This morning I was planning to go to the Oaktree Centre to sample the food in the newly-opened café. One of Shenley Christian Fellowship members, Tim O'Brien is part of a musical group called Fadin' Shoes. It was he who drove me to the John Radcliffe Hospital to have my stent fitted. I drove out of Eaglestone at around 11.40 which would have given me plenty of time to get to Shenley, but, driving down Chaffron Way, the road ahead, at the roundabout where it intersects with Fulmer Street, there was a road sign in red stating quite clearly 'Road Closed, and a gang of workmen, presumably resurfacing the road. There was absolutely no advance warning as I drove along Chaffron Way, so this came as rather a shock, to say the least. I turned left and came to Standing Way and eventually got onto Watling Street and drove as far as Childs Way with the intention of hopefully getting into Chaffron Way further up towards Morrisons at Westcroft, but even that road was closed off at the roundabout at the intersection with Fulmer Street. So, not feeling very happy that my day had been ruined, I decided to head home along Fulmer Street and get home. Annoyed isn't the word, because I have wanted to listen go the music and have something to eat in the newly-opened café which has been a long time in the planning.

Telephone Troubles

My Diazepam tablets ran out yesterday. I am only given them in batches of 10. This is because they can become addictive and sometimes, if taken regularly, your body gets used to them and they become ineffective. I had to ring Ashfield Medical Centre this morning to at least get a doctor's appointment to either give me a repeat prescription or give me an alternative that have the same effect. They help me sleep and I'm not lying awake in bed at 2.30a.m. with all my problems going through my head, the biggest one being when will the D.W.P. sort out the possible pension that Carol had when she lived and worked in Bournemouth and the fact that I'm not being paid my full rent through Housing Benefit. With this in mind I began ringing at around 8.25 and eventually got through at 8.35. I'm still uncertain what time they are supposed to open the lines, because, before they answer, you just get a sort of engaged tone. Then, when I did eventually get through, there were no more than four other people in the queue in front of me. That infernal music you have to endure has changed, when you are put on hold, and the woman's voice who tells you 'we have a high volume of calls at the moment,' and 'sorry for keeping you waiting,' sounds less angry. Why did she sound so angry to me and similar to the voice of Shula in the BBC radio soap 'The Archers'? Sorry, but to me she does, and it's almost as if this 'voice' has a sort of tone to it suggesting, 'get off my line, I'm busy, and I don't want to be disturbed!' Then I eventually got to be first in the queue and I was ACTUALLY SPEAKING TO A HUMAN! what ever is the world coming to? I explained why I was ringing and then was told I should have rung another number for repeat prescriptions, which opened after 11a.m. Having given my date of birth and then name (I suppose they have to do this, so as to make sure that they're dealing with the right patient and that you don't get someone else's medications and it would no doubt be a contravention of G.D.P.R. (General Data Protection Regulation, yet another E.U.-imposed bit imposed legislation which I bet hasn't been voted on democratically in the E.U. parliament and no doubt invented by some faceless bureaucrat, or am I just being a pessimist?) I said that, because it wasn't on a repeat list, as are all my heart medications, I should perhaps have an appointment with one of the doctors to discuss this, also, how I was coping with taking the Diazepam, any side-effects etc etc. So, at the end of the conversation I was left none the wiser and hopefully going to get a call-back from one of the doctors when she told me that she would pass the information on to the duty doctor who was assigned to deal with appointments, once he or she had heard what the appointment was about.

There's absolutely no certainty at what time the call-back from the doctor is going to be. I can be barely an hour or two, but it was getting nearer and nearer to midday when they still hadn't returned my call. I went upstairs and was laying on my bed when the phone rang and I ran downstairs to the phone in the hall (that is, the landline phone) and picked up the phone, expecting it to be one of the doctors with the awaited ring-back. It wasn't. A foreign-sounding woman with an Oriental sound to it, telling me she was 'from the Windows department' which immediately rang bells, as I could tell it wasn't a curtesy call. I know, from  really nasty experience, that all these calls are a scam, they just want to get into your computer system and hack your details, bank account numbers and so on. I told her I knew it was a scam and told her to get off my phone and all I got back was a load of expletives F you B . . . F you B . . .  F you B . . . which told me all I needed to know, so I immediately put the telephone down. You know the old saying 'once bitten, twice shy,' which is about all you need to know. For a  start, no sooner had she said she was from the Windows department and that 'there's a problem with your computer,' I knew it was a scam because I don't have a Windows computer. End of story.

I had another of these 'scam' calls, this time on my iPhone. I can't see where they get my number, landline or mobile. I don't intentionally give my numbers out and they shouldn't actually be phoning me because I'm signed up to the preference service which is supposed to stop these unsolicited calls. Then there are those calls that, when you pick them up, nobody answers and there's just a long silence until you get this weird 'good bye,' at the end. What is that all about?

Later I got yet another call, from of all people, Sky. They knew that I had closed down my Sky Television account and even gone as far as sending back the Q Box and all the paraphernalia that went with it, including the cables and the two remotes. Sky sent the packaging, very cleverly posted in a flat-pack format and you have to assemble it yourself and use peel-off adhesive strips to keep it all together, along with pre-paid postage labels. But I wasn't swayed by the marketing tactics of the young man on the other end of the phone. I said I now had Freeview and I had no intention of resubscribing, basically because of the cost and the fact that I didn't need even half of the channels. Apart from that, the Panasonic Freeview box I now have is perfectly adequate. It allows you to record and also you can use catch-up with such things as BBC iPlayer, as well as having a dedicated Netflix button and if you look carefully, such things as YouTube and even Amazon Prime video, which means you don't need to set up the Fire Stick which can be quite touch and go whether it will work properly.

A Wet Morning

Thursday morning. I got up as usual and was in the process of taking Alfie out as I normally do. I had my jacket on, because even though it's late July, it can be quite chilly first thing in the morning. I had everything ready, with Alfie on his lead, but as soon as I got outside with him I realised that it was raining. Not particularly heavily, but enough to get a bit of a soaking, so we ended up returning indoors, much to Alfie's displeasure. I wasn't risking a soaking, of either him or myself. I needed to ring Ashfield Medical Centre to get a repeat of the Diazepam, as I had but one final tablet to take tonight. I could take Alfie out once I had rung the surgery.

I managed to get though to Ashfield Medical Centre in record time. I don't think there was any sort of queue even though it was gone 8.35 when I eventually got through, but I was told that today was protected time after 1p.m. so a doctor was unlikely to ring me back to arrange an appointment, but that my repeat prescription would be sent directly to Lloyd's pharmacy at Sainsbury's, so I should be able to collect it from there tomorrow.

Something amused me this morning, after the slight rainfall we had earlier. A squirrel came into the garden, hopping off the fence and approaching the bird feeding station. It gave a glance at the house, almost as if it was expecting to find a camera set up to take it's photograph. It then attempted to climb the central pole that supports the feeding station, but because the thing was wet it couldn't get a grip and began to slide down! Looked very amusing and this may be the answer to the problem of keeping these little blighters off the feeder, put something greasy on it and they can't climb up. More likely, just slide down.

Sunshine Is Good For The Soul

It's another of those beautifully bright and sunny July days which really lifts your spirits. Having taken the Diazepam tablet last night, I had yet another really good sleep and didn't wake until gone 6 o'clock. I think Alfie is gradually adjusting to my new routine of getting up later and later and we didn't get out until a little before 7 a.m. I am a little bit concerned that there are far more cars parked along Golden Drive and even a few traffic cones. I have an idea that these cars may belong to employees of the hospital which is just behind this house. I do hope it doesn't mean we're going to get more employees parking here as it's getting a bit crowded. I have no complaint about this issue, but if it means that Eaglestone residents don't have space to park then it is a serious issue. What does annoys me is when people insist on parking across the footpath. It's difficult to actually differentiate which is road and which is path for pedestrians and it's a bit unfair that you have to walk into the road when a car is in the way. Some cars even park on the grass, which is eventually going to destroy this feature along the roadside because this area isn't designed to take the weight of a car. It would be alright in the summer, when it it is dry, but when it rains or there's snow and ice it is going to cause more problems and merely churn up the grass and create mud.

I had decided to go into the Council offices and discover whether they had heard anything from the DWP (Department of Work and Pensions) with regards my Pension Credit. I wanted to get there as soon as I could after they opened at 9 o'clock. I was daring when I wore my shorts! It has been hot enough to wear them. I parked the car in the usual carpark near The Point, using the RingGo app to pay. It actually worked, but I had a pocket-full of £1 coins just in case.

I walked into the shopping centre and then out the opposite side near Costa and near Marks and Spencer and on arrival in the Civic Centre I had to first sign in using one of the touch-screen terminals. I couldn't get the one I used to work so I had to ask a member of staff and then got a ticket from the machine with number 204 on it and went to sit down and wait. I was surprised how few people there were in there. I imagine most people would arrive later or simply couldn't get out of bed. I had bought my World Wildlife Fund reusable bag with me, containing reading as well as writing material. But my number wasn't long in appearing on the digital screen and the automated voice spoke out the number. No doubt this is for those whose vision isn't very good and I walked across to the desk. I explained to the lady behind the desk why I was there, to find out if they'd had any notification from the D.W.P. about my Pension Credit claim. They hadn't. Then I asked her about having my Housing Benefit paid directly into my landlord's bank account. She tried to persuade me against this, saying it was only done in exceptional circumstances and I was adamant that I wanted this. She said that it would require a signature from my landlord and she went away to find the relevant form for me to fill in. As it is about the time when I get a visit from the landlord and his wife, once a year for a mere ten minutes, it would be then that I would get him to agree to the Housing Benefit going directly into his bank account. I also learnt that the next payment of Housing Benefit (which should be to cover the entirety of the rent.) is on 22nd July. By which time I should have heard via the D.W.P. regarding the newly-discovered pension that Carol had when she was living and working in Bournemouth (which is going to effect the amount I receive from the Council.)

Another Sunny Day

(Tuesday) The sun is out again today, but thankfully it hasn't been quite as searingly hot as it's been over the past couple of days.

I'm still waiting to hear exactly what I'm likely to get as regards cash. Not very much, it would appear. I have been sent a form which came in the post with a letter informing me I'm possibly going to inherit a pension from Abbey National. It is addressed in Bournemouth so I'm thinking it must have been connect to a job that Carol must have had when she lived in Bournemouth, although at the moment there's no guarantee I'm going to get anything, but they have to check at the D.W.P. (Deprtment of Work and Pensions) just to make sure. I'm concerned because whatever I get will have to go towards paying rent on this house. Just stressing me out waiting.

I won't be going to Camphill today. Just not up to it. Sorry, but that's the way it is. I texted Teo, the drama leader, to let him know and he did text back so I at least know he got my message. I'm so glad we have this technology, although at times it can be annoying.

Had a not particularly good night's sleep and have had to ring doctor for an appointment. I started ringing at 8.15 (now I have absolutely no idea what time they are supposed to open the telephone lines.) and I was ringing about every 5 minutes. Thank goodness my phone has a redial function otherwise I would be wearing out my finger.) I eventually got through at 8.35 and found 2 people in the queue in front of me and eventually got to speak to a receptionist at 8.45. But, as I write this (9.51) I am still waiting for a doctor to ring me back to give me an appointment today.

I got  telephone call, so I rushed to pick it up, but it wasn't a doctor. It was Age UK, who got my message regarding the letter I got yesterday (mentioned above.). I have got an appointment there on 11th July for them to do a benefits check to see what else I am entitled to.

I eventually got a call from the doctor's surgery. The lady was sorry that I hadn't had a doctor's call, due to being very busy, but she got me an appointment with Dr Roy at 4.50 this evening.

I went to the doctor's appointment well before the time of 4.50. I was there around 4.30. I always attempt to get to my appointments earlier than scheduled because there is always the slight chance that I will be seen earlier. This has happened so this makes sense. Also, the traffic along Standing Way, which you have to cross in order to get to the surgery, can often be heavy and this can make you late. This is a particularly difficult roundabout to negotiate, hence the time it can take. When I eventually got parked and then walked around to the surgery entrance, I was surprised that the waiting area was virtually empty, apart from one lady.

I've been given a prescription for Diazepam. I have resisted taking any sort of antidepressants because the last time I had any, not long after Carol died, they had a more negative effect than I expected. The doctor explained that this isn't an antidepressant. I helps reduce anxiety. I took one a couple of hours before I went to bed and I didn't experience any side effects, such as suggested in the leaflet which came with the tablets.

(Wednesday)This morning I don't feel drowsy or in any way tired. I had a very good night's sleep. Alfie came upstairs to find out what I was doing. Well, just awake but laying in bed. He barked at me (this was at about 5.45a.m.) I refused to move. What on earth was the point of getting up so early? You try explaining to him! He is actually quite capable of jumping up onto the bed, but he insist I pick him up. So I did. He stared at me, as he does when he thinks he ought to be going out for his early morning walk. I remained steadfastly in bed and rolled over. He came round and at on the pillow next to my face. In this way I have absolutely no way I can avoid him. How can you, when he's right next to you on the pillow your laying on?

As it's bright and sunny I decided to put on a load of washing. Perhaps best to, because Phil and Robert are coming back tomorrow and will attempt to mow the grass (no, I'm not calling it 'lawn' because it doesn't in any way resemble one.) and it would be difficult for them to work if there is drying washing is in the way, is it's best to do it today and get it out on the line and dry as quickly as possible. It should, if the weather stays as it is at the moment.

Later. I walked to my appointment at the Macmillan Unit at Milton Keynes hospital this afternoon. A bit shocked to find when I got there that the chairs where you wait are now changed. Not the really nice comfortable armchairs which used to be in there, but really horrible, uncomfortable upright chairs. Why the change? I really couldn't spend too long sitting on them. I'd get back ache and goodness knows what else ache. By bum, for a start. Had a good chat and it's nice to have somewhere to go to off-load how I was feeling and to discuss problems and to know I can always go back if I want to.