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.

House-Hunting

The title of this blog post is correct, up to a point. But it should be 'home-hunting' but that doesn't really work.  Nit-picking, I know, or being pedantic (which is the same thing, or tortological), but does it matter, and do you, or I, really care? Probably not. A flat, bungalow or any sort of one-bedded home would be preferable. I just can't continue to live in this house because the rent is too high and Milton Keynes Council will not pay the full amount, for whatever reason I can't fathom. I rang several agencies this morning, having been given a list when I went to the Council offices yesterday morning. I was told that they couldn't help because I wasn't homeless, which is true up to a point, but I am trying to sort things out before I have problem, which is one reason i went to Citizens' Advice this morning, rather than going to Camphill to work with the drama group as I have done each Tuesday for the past two weeks. I hope to go back next week. I did ring to say I wouldn't be there at 8.30.

I had been given a list of agencies which I began to ring early this morning. Not a great deal of use. The minute you say 'Housing Benefit' they don't always want to help. A couple said that someone would return my call, a person who deals with rental properties, so I waited, and waited, but no call came back. Just annoying and a waste of my time. So it occurred to me that perhaps Citizens' Advice might be more helpful. I just need someone to be a bit more supportive of my situation. I wasn't entirely sure where the CAB office was in Milton Keynes, so I had to go on Google Maps and then, when I drove into the city centre and parked the car, I used my iPhone and the maps app to guide me to the office in Midsummer Boulevard.

I was handed a form to fill in as soon as I arrived, by the lady on the reception desk. So I sat down and began to fill in the form. The usual stuff you have to put on such a form. Why was I there? My age, address, age and goodness knows what else. Did I mind them sharing my details 'with other agencies,' or something. A declaration for G.D.P.R. (General Data Protection Regulations). There weren't many people waiting with me. I also had a card with a number on it, right this moment I can't remember the number, and then I heard someone call out the number. It was behind me. This seems the general procedure in most places, you get given a ticket or card with a number on it and then you have to wait for the number to be called out or appear on a digital screen, as in the case of the doctor's surgery, a clinic at the hospital, the Jobcentre or Council offices.

I was eventually called into an office by one of the advisors. I was surprised how quickly I was seen. Having used C.A.B. when I lived in Bedford, I can remember vividly having to wait around 2-3 hours to be seen. I know there weren't as many other people waiting when I was in the Milton Keynes office, it seemed a good deal more efficiently run than the Bedford branch. Or they have more staff and a better procedure before you get seen by anyone. It doesn't look as if there are many options for alternative accommodation. House prices are sky high in Milton Keynes, probably higher than most parts of Britain, probably because Milton Keynes is such a successful town. It is expanding rapidly and there are plenty of jobs. As a consequence, people will pay higher prices for houses and also rent is higher than the average. Many people rent, particularly when there is a floating population, those who come to work here briefly and don't intend buying a property. So as a result of all this I'm finding it difficult to find somewhere else to live. I was given a list of housing association telephone numbers to try. Probably they would have somewhere for me to move to and, because they aren't run to make a profit, they would look after their tenants better than an organisation which is profit-based and have shareholders.

On arriving home I began to ring some of the numbers on the list I had been given. One of the housing associations is Bedford Pilgrim's. I didn't realise they had properties in Milton Keynes. I used to live in one of their flats when I lived at Beauchamp Court in Bedford. I discover that I can't approach them directly to be put on a waiting list for a property. I have to go through the Council. I have to send an email to them and I soon get a reply. I have to be homeless to apply. What is going on here? I'm going out of my way to avoid being homeless. They won't help me, as I was told when I visited the Council offices on Monday. I feel really annoyed. It seems that nobody wants to help me. One suggestion made when I was at the C.A.B. office yesterday was, would I consider having a lodger, who would pay rent which would make up the difference that I'm not getting in Housing Benefit? This has crossed my mind. There is a largish spare room, which was Daniel's when he lived with us. I'm not so sure it's such a good idea. It would have to be a male lodger, someone I trusted and anyway, I'd have to have my landlord's approval and I'm not sure he would agree to having a lodger. This person would pay his rent directly to the landlord and he'd have to interview any prospective candidates. It would seem to be one solution to this problem, but I still can't think why the Council can't pay all of my rent.

A knock on the door at around lunchtime yesterday. I rush to answer and two people standing on the doorstep, a young man and a girl, with clipboards in their hands. From some power provider. I say, 'oh no, not more!' They turn tale and walk away. It's getting annoying, this. It was P.P.I. I'd get telephone about, but now it seems every power company under the sun is out touting for custom. That's three i've had in the past couple of weeks, several offering to install a smart meter. I know they are only doing their job, but I'm getting heartily sick of them coming to the door or telephoning me.

Carol Discharged From Hospital . . . At Last!

Yet another hot and uncomfortable day. The weather is becoming somewhat monotonous, to say the least.

I've been attempting to sort out the tenancy agreement we have with our landlord to give to the Housing Benefit department at Milton Keynes Council. I have sent them an email, as I thought I'd attempt another tactic. Several years ago we had problems with the gas boiler in this house. We attempted to ring the landlord, but we couldn't get through. We then went through the council, because it would be obvious that they would have his details because of paying Council Tax and one thing and another. It worked and we eventually got the boiler replaced. So I thought of using this again and wrote the email and sent it. I even rang and got through quite quickly, considering how long it can take. I was then told, after explaining all about how they'd contacted the man over the boiler I was told, rather annoyingly, that they couldn't do that, 'because of data protection.' So, this  is because of the confounded new E.U. legislation called the General Data Protection Regulations 2018, which came into force in May. We're back were we started. I have left a message on our landlord's voicemail, but no response seems to be forthcoming. Where is the man? Does he not realise that this is important? It's not just us that need the paperwork to finish the Housing Benefit claim. He won't get his rent paid without it etc etc etc.

We spent a long day on the ward. We knew at some point Carol would eventually be discharged, but when, we couldn't say.

At 11.40 Carol had an appointment in the Macmillan Unit with Doctor Saka, the Lead Cancer consultant. Carol was taken down in a wheelchair by a porter. It's not far from Ward 22, but she clearly couldn't walk that far so it was best to be taken in a wheelchair. We have to wait a long time in the waiting area. They never seem to run to time in these units. Perhaps they don't give enough time for consultations, there's a lot to discuss. Eventually Carol's name is called and we go into the office of Dr Saka. It's the main man, not one of his minions. He asks Carol questions, about why she has been in hospital for four weeks. He came to Ward 1 when she was there, but didn't know she was on Ward 22. It seems as if there's a communication problem. Why wasn't he informed? This seems to be a problem with some N.H.S. departments, a lack of joined-up care you might say. He spends ages looking at the scanned imaged that came from the various scans Carol has had over the past few weeks and months, the M.R.I. and C.T. scans. We sit in silence. It's quite scary. We wait with baited breath. We're here to hopefully find out what the plan is for Carol's care. We are told that the liver and bowel cancer has been shrunk considerably by the chemotherapy, but they've found some cancer in her bones. It's a bit of a blow. How will all this be treated? He tells us that he will make a report and contact the cancer unit at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford and they will make some sort of decision. We feel we're no further forward. We haven't had the answers we need. The heat and the fact Carol's been ill and in hospital for near enough five weeks is really telling. We leave the consolation room and go back to the reception desk to make an appointment for four weeks hence and then the porter comes and Carol goes back to Ward 22.

Carol has quite a few visits from people different from N.H.S. departments at the hospital, the nurse about the stoma; someone from ophthalmology. The lady came with various lenses and glasses for Carol to try to help make reading easier for her because she's having problems with her eyes. A rather weird sort of pair of glasses with double lenses which had a knurled device on their frame which helps them focus a sort of domed glass magnifying glass that you move across a page of text, another which was a   squarish magnifying glass on a handle. Carol didn't get on with the strange glasses, which made me think of the sort of specs that someone who does close work, like a clock-maker might use. Or the character of Professor Brainstawn from the books I was read when I was at school and later read myself. He had around five pairs of glasses which were perched on the top of his head and he was always loosing.  written by the author Norman Hunter and Illustrated by W. Heath Robinson. In the end Carol chose the magnifying glass with the handle because she found the strange glasses to complicated. She will have an eye test so she can have proper prescription glasses. Then another lady arrived, from the diabetes team. She bought a bloodsugar testing monitor so that Carol can do the necessary blood tests to keep on top of her levels. We were looking into buying a new one, so, with this model, together with the lancets which go in a separate gadget to prick her finger, that's a definite saving. She also gave us a list to take to our doctor so all these bits and pieces which need replacing can be re-ordered on prescription because at the moment we have to pay for all these things. Hopefully, Lloyd's in Sainsbury's will be supplying all of this when the time comes for a repeat prescription.

Around 2.30 Carol eventually went to have the P.I.C.C. line put in. A nurse came to take her down, walking there, not in a wheelchair with a porter. It's not far to the scanning department. I had to wait in the waiting area, as you'd expect. The whole procedure took around an hour. After which we returned to the ward.

Carol had ordered supper (do they call it supper, dinner or tea in hospital? Whatever it's called, her evening meal.) It came around 5 o'clock. I could make myself a meal of some sort when I got home, go and get fish and chips or cook one of the individual meals I'd bought in Morrisons's a couple of days ago. She had a baked potato and baked beans. It would mean that she wouldn't want a meal when we eventually got home.

Someone arrived from the pharmacy department with all the medications that Carol would need when she got home. A couple of large carrier bags full of stuff together with all the bits and pieces needed by the community nurse who would be coming each day to give Carol the antibiotics. That is what P.I.C.C. line is for.

The nurse in charge had done the relevant paperwork, the discharge stuff, the official paperwork which gave a description in clear language of why carol had been in hospital, together with a couple of pages of all the medication she as being sent home with. We had to go through it all and check it off. All I can say is, thank goodness for the N.H.S. and the fact that we don't have to pay for any of this as it would cost us a considerable amount of money.

Nearly 6 o'clock and by this time I'd taken one load of things out to the car. Several carrier bags which would make the final exit a good deal easier. One of the nurse came and pushed Carol in the wheelchair out down in the lift and out through the double doors where the ambulances pick up and drop of patents. This is where we got on the ambulance which took Carol and I to the Churchill Hospital in Oxford all those months ago, before she had her chemotherapy, and was so uncomfortable, basically because the driver drove so fast and it was just plain unpleasant.

The nurse got Carol as far as she could in the wheelchair. The road surface going the rest of the way to the carpark is far too uneven for a wheelchair, so I went to fetch the car and drove it back to the ambulance entrance so that Carol could get in and the rest of the luggage put in the boot of the car. So, she was at last discharged and we drove home. Alfie was excited to greet Carol when we got in the house, having unloaded the car. I think she was glad to be able to sleep in her bed for the night. By the time we got home it was gone 7 o'clock but we knew that it was likely to take several hours for Carol's discharge to be completed.

Blinking Brexit

You just can't get away from it. Britain leaving the EU. Or Brexit for short. I hate the term. I actually voted to 'Remain,' but I can't think why. I spent ages on deciding the pros and cons of voting to either Remain or Leave, but I can honestly say that, if we were to have another referendum, I think I'd vote leave. I just hate all the unnecessary bureaucracy created by a virtually faceless load of pen-pushers in Strasberg or wherever the organisation is based. Did we really know what we were voting for during that referendum in 2016? I doubt it very much. The politicians didn't know how difficult it was going to be to disassociate ourselves from this 'thing.'

We should never have had this crazy referendum in the first place. It was only because of the rise of UKIP, the party who wanted us to leave the E.U. that David Cameron ran scared and had the thing in the first place. Surely, being a member of something, such as a club or trade union, you don't always agree with everything the organisation you're a member of does. But you have the power to influence things, as Britain did as an E.U. member. You can work to change it, for good or bad. Just leaving because you don't like it isn't really the answer. The joke is, that now UKIP has virtually disappeared from the political scene. 

I really object to having laws and regulations foisted on us by an unelected body such as the EU parliament and those laws being above our parliament. We've currently got to give our consent if we want to have emails sent under something called the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) as from 25th May 2018. I'm getting endless emails to make sure I tick the relevant box to make sure companies which I've already signed up to, have my permission to continue to email me. It doesn't make sense when I've already made it clear I've given my sense when I signed up to these emails however long ago it was. Just another layer of bureaucracy. But what really gets me is that I bet this doesn't stop all the junk mail I get or the endless telephone calls trying to get me to claim PPI (which I've never had.) Even though I've signed up to the preference service which is supposed to prevent these calls, so I bet this new EU regulation will have about as much clout as a chocolate hammer.

So, we have to go through all this rigmarole about a Hard and a Soft Brexit (whatever they mean. Can someone explain, please? I'm totally confused.) It has never ever been explained to me how the E.U. works or what we got from being members. Where does the money we pay in go? What do we get? Do we get Nectar points?

I can see why people voted to leave. The British are a proud nation. We fought two World Wars. We got through The Blitz, Dunkirk and countless battles. We're an island. We like to make our own rules and regulations. We don't like being dominated by faceless bureaucrats.

Do we really, honestly spend £350 million a day on funding this organisation? Or was it weeks? I don't know, but the leave campaign had it emblazoned on the side of their bus, and it was going to fund the N.H.S. Was this just a reason to get people to vote leave? I think it was a week. Surely it was a week. I can't believe we'd pay that much a day. But Boris Johnson said it was an 'underestimate.'

Politicians on both sides of the referendum argument, remain and leave, made absolutely no attempt to explain what the E.U. was about. I can see that, when it was originally set up back in the 1950's, as the Common Market, and when it was just 6 nations, it was an attempt to get countries to cooperate and hopefully prevent another war in Europe. Cooperation being the operative word here. We had joined under the Harold Wilson government in the 1970s and then, for some strange reason we had a referendum, in 1975 I think it was, to ask 'The People' if they wanted us to be members. A rather back-to-front idea, putting the cart before the horse, to have a vote AFTER we joined. But the E.U., as it's now called, isn't the same organisation it was at that time. We now have a single currency, The Euro (which Britain didn't sign up to) and far more regulations and laws.

Why is there such a problem with refugees and immigrants in this country? We've always had immigrants and been tolerant of refugees. Just look at our history, going back centuries. We've welcomed people from different ethnic groups, such as the Huguenots  who fled persecution and then set up the silk weaving industry in London. The idea of having 'open borders,' meaning you can cross into the other E.U. countries without having to bother with endless paperwork, passports, making trading easier because you all have the same structures for such things as health and safety or weights and measures and even (heaven forbid) currency makes a lot of sense. If we could all agree on how to deal with refugees, then that problem might have been resolved, and not put pressure on one or two nations within the E.U. (ie: France and Britain, with all the problems caused by refugees at the Channel ports between France and Britain.) then the E.U. might have been a worthwhile organisation to be a member of. But it seems the different countries with the E.U. can't even agree on that. A shame. It would really make being a member worthwhile.

Why on earth, when they were setting up the 2016 EU Referendum, didn't they set a target, a sort of percentage of one way or other, to remain or leave, of, say 10% or even 20%, to which would be agreed as the winning amount of votes and then decide whether Britain remained or left the E.U. As it trend out, the result was 51.89% to leave and 48.11% to remain, a really tiny percentage to leave. Hardly enough to decide to leave. Surely it should have been a higher percentage to leave. A crazy mistake on the part of our politicians who put the country through this incredibly messy situation as regards the negotiations to extricate ourselves from the E.U. Then you learn that there were25,359 blank or invalid votes. What were those people who wasted their votes thinking? Just wasted. Either way, if they had used their votes sensibly then the results might have been completely different.