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.

Early Mornings

(Monday)  A not quite-so-cold morning when I took Alfie out across Eaglestone Park. Yesterday I got a sudden 'hit' in my chest. Not an angina attack, but it made me feel very tired. Apparently this was likely to happen, due to the stents. Just made me feel sleepy and this went on for the rest of the day. I let Alfie off his lead and he did his usual running-about bit. He had to explore in a very over-grown area along the path. He got himself caught in the brambles and thorny bits of over-growth and I had to rescue him. His coat got caught in the thorns and I had to pull it off his tail. Very undignified for him, but once I put him back of the ground he ran off, none the worse for the whole incident. We did a longer walk, ending up on the Redway near the hospital.

I have had to fill in a form sent from the D.W.P. (Department of Work and Pensions), regarding Carol's P.I.P. (Personal Independence Payment.) I assumed this would be stopped when she passed away, but they sent one for to me which I had help filling in when I went to see Alison Corbett the other week, who is the caseworker from C.A.B. (Citizen's Advice Bureau), who helped me fill it in. They have sent exactly the same form out again. It makes me wonder whether they've lost the original form. I think I might ring them to find out what exactly is going on. I may be entitled to some sort of payment, but it's not clear why or how much.

Later. I've been trying to get though on the hotline to the D.W.P. in connection with the letter I mentioned in the above. You have to go through about three menus and then select the appropriate number, but all you seem to get is a really horrible electronic version of Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' on a sort of loop and an irritating woman's voice telling you to 'hold on, or ring later. All our agents are busy. . .' Why is it so annoying? Just want to speak to a human. I don't want to fill in the form, post it back and then . . . a couple of weeks later, get another letter with exactly the same form in it, to fill in and get the same response. Is there a robot at the other end, or  computer at least just sending out letters endlessly? Probably not, but it does seem like it somehow.

I've given Alfie a bath this afternoon. He makes an awful fuss and I don't think he likes getting wet. I ran the hot water before I put him in and then gave him a good shampoo. In actual fact he loves the attention he gets. I had to make sure the bathroom door is well and truly shut otherwise he would run all over the house, attempting to dry himself. I put a towel on the floor of the bathroom and used  plastic jug to scoop up the water in the bath to rinse off the soap. Fortunately it's a low-suds brand and so there aren't too many bubbles to rinse. He does attempt to climb out of the bath but I lift him out and towel him dry as best as possible before he shakes himself. Then, once he is at least partially dry, I let him out of the bathroom and he heads downstairs to the lounge. It doesn't take too long for him to be completely dry and I spend some time brushing him. As a result his coat looks silky and soft and the lovely wave comes back in his coat, giving the impression that he's been permed! All the fuss in the bath and he really loves being brushed.

Later Still. I have tried several times more to get some response from the hotline for P.I.P. Just giving up and will give it another try tomorrow morning.

Tuesday Morning. I'm sitting here on my armchair, with Alfie to the right of me, sitting on the arm of the sofa, watching my every move. He making the vague clucking noises he makes, because he's very intent at going out for his routine walk. It's actually 7.03 a.m., and I can see that it's relatively light outside, so I really have no choice but to get ready to take him out. I will have to leave him in the lounge while I get ready, put my shoes on and my jacket and make sure I have doggy bags in my pocket along with my gloves and iPhone. It shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes and then go into the kitchen to get his lead. We walked a good deal further than we usually do. I don't think Alfie minds. He just loves being out and about.

Later. I did attempt to get through on the D.W.P. helpline regarding the P.I.P. I went through all the confounded menus and then got the horrible 'Four Seasons' music but there was absolutely no way I was ever going to get through to anyone to speak to, so I decided to give up and complete the form and post it off, which is what I have now done and it's gone. I still can't work out why they've sent me another of the same forms to fill it. I still get a sneaking suspicion the first one got lost somewhere and they don't like to admit it.

I'm keeping a watch on the matter which builds up under Alfie's eyes. (I was going to say 'keep a close eye on it,' but thought the better of it.) He knows when I get the water from the sink (put in an empty  plastic ice-cream container), a towel off the front hall radiator and a ball of cotton wool. I have to hold him on my knee. It seems both eyes are looking clearer than before we went to the vet's to have the large accumulation of this stuff removed. But he is a real wriggler and growls at me. For a little dog, he's hard to hold onto. I don't know whether he'd bight me, but I'm not prepared to find out as he has sharp teeth! I got rid of a large piece of this concretion (for want of a better work.) yesterday, so it is working.

Another Few Days In Hospital

We were hoping that Carol might be discharged from hospital today. I usually make sure that I'm on the ward when the doctors do their rounds. They usually arrive between 10-10.30. Carol's temperature is still causing concern. But her blood sugar level is now at a safer level. The results of the blood tests to show up signs of infection seem somewhat ambiguous. The doctor said that she would need to remain on the ward until at least Monday. Not something that either of us wants to hear, but it is better that Carol remains in hospital where she can be observed and have a better chance of this thing being resolved than going home and the infection getting worse and then having to rush back into hospital and the whole sequence of events being repeated. She has numb hands. She has problems holding anything. She says that she can hardly feel anything and it can be difficult to even grip some objects, finding it difficult to do simple things like opening packets or holding a pen. The doctor said it is most likely a side effect of the chemotherapy, even though the 12 cycles were completed almost three weeks ago. The doctor said that a specialist oncology doctor would know exactly what was going on as she didn't have the expertise requited to know what all this meant.

We're having to rely on benefits until Carol gets back to work. Carol has already got what is called a P.I.P. (Personal Independence Payment) and we're in the process of applying for Housing Benefit and what is called E.S.A. (Employment Support Allowance). We got a form (it takes a lot of patience and time and effort to fill these in. Most of them are done on-line. The Housing Benefit one was, as well as the others. What happens to those who don't have a computer or internet access?) which required a cancer specialist to sign the back page. I went to the Macmillan unit first, as I assumed that they would be able to help, but no. Not their fault, but I was then sent to the nurses's desk within the unit, they couldn't help. I even asked at the nurses desk within Ward 22, but they couldn't sign it without the whole form being signed. I even asked one of the doctors who came on the ward round yesterday, but because they're not cancer specialists, they could oblige. By now I was getting annoyed. I had been told by the stoma nurse who came to see Carol yesterday and she had said that any doctor could sign the form, but as I found out, this wasn't the case. In the end I went to the oncology department, where Carol had her 12 cycles of chemotherapy. One of the nurses, who hadn't been on duty when we'd been in there, made the effort to look at the files they had and managed to fill in the form and sign it so, at last I could get it posted off.

On top of all this we got a letter from the D.W.P. (Department of Work and Pensions) that they needed a new medical certificate as the old one is about to expire. So I rang Ashfield Medical Centre. Now, you would think that it would be a simple matter of getting the doctor to sign the relevant form and date it accordingly, but we have to wait for him to ring on Monday morning for me (or Carol, if she's at home then) to explain what we want and THEN go and collect the wretched form, probably on Tuesday afternoon and THEN post it off to the relevant department. WHY couldn't this be done on Friday when I rang? It seems they are making things more difficult than is completely necessary.