I went to St Luke's by bus and on foot to celebrate Mass this morning, but nobody showed up. I said morning prayer and then returned home. We went to the Parish Christmas Fair in St Catherines Hall after lunch. The place was very busy with cakes and other goodies on sale, second hand books and records, and lots of parishioners working hard and apparently enjoying themselves in this congenial atmosphere. I found and bought the Bob Marley CD 'Natural Mystic' on the second hand books and records stall. The songs I remember well from the streets during our time in St Paul's Parish Bristol, though I didn't buy the album. Clare objects when I play music too loud, so I have to wait until she's out to enjoy the benefit of reggae from my hi-fi. Even my ears can't take it quite so loud these days, as in younger days.
After late evening Direct Message to Talktalk last night, complaining about the engineer no-show, another booking slot was agreed for next Monday afternoon with only a vague explanation being offered for yesterday. Yet another unresolved concern to have to wait patiently to get dealt with.
I had another lengthy Direct Messaging conversation about the router password not working. I still couldn't get a straight answer about any possible change in Talktalk router security policy. I posed the question of whether the lockout could be due to the device being maliciously hacked, and this was dismissed as unlikely, despite us being the target of so many scam calls purporting to come from Talktalk in the time since their big data hacking theft two years ago. The perpetrators were in the news this week as they received prison sentences for their crime. But the damage it caused still rolls out, nevertheless. The only half explanation for router inaccessibility offered was that it was due to the, as yet undiagnosed line fault, a somewhat lame idea in my opinion.
As I was experiencing an unusually high level of swelling and discomfort. My blood pressure was consistently much higher than usual, using a new sphygmometer I bought earlier this week, despite it having been satisfactorily lower than usual when I finished the course of antibiotics I was taking until Thursday last. This bothered me, so I called NHS direct, and had a long conversation in which I explained my recent medical journey and reason for present concerns. This was followed up an hour later with another conversation with a 'nurse consultant' in which I imparted the same information and received no practical advice in return, apart from "Call us if it gets worse, or else 999." That's another couple of unrewarding hours of my life I won't get back. Tough it out until Monday, then go and see my GP. The alternative would be hours and maybe tests in a crowded A&E department with a further risk of no outcome and more wasted time.
The last episode of 'Beck' on BBC Four this evening, an all too short series this time, sad to say.
After late evening Direct Message to Talktalk last night, complaining about the engineer no-show, another booking slot was agreed for next Monday afternoon with only a vague explanation being offered for yesterday. Yet another unresolved concern to have to wait patiently to get dealt with.
I had another lengthy Direct Messaging conversation about the router password not working. I still couldn't get a straight answer about any possible change in Talktalk router security policy. I posed the question of whether the lockout could be due to the device being maliciously hacked, and this was dismissed as unlikely, despite us being the target of so many scam calls purporting to come from Talktalk in the time since their big data hacking theft two years ago. The perpetrators were in the news this week as they received prison sentences for their crime. But the damage it caused still rolls out, nevertheless. The only half explanation for router inaccessibility offered was that it was due to the, as yet undiagnosed line fault, a somewhat lame idea in my opinion.
As I was experiencing an unusually high level of swelling and discomfort. My blood pressure was consistently much higher than usual, using a new sphygmometer I bought earlier this week, despite it having been satisfactorily lower than usual when I finished the course of antibiotics I was taking until Thursday last. This bothered me, so I called NHS direct, and had a long conversation in which I explained my recent medical journey and reason for present concerns. This was followed up an hour later with another conversation with a 'nurse consultant' in which I imparted the same information and received no practical advice in return, apart from "Call us if it gets worse, or else 999." That's another couple of unrewarding hours of my life I won't get back. Tough it out until Monday, then go and see my GP. The alternative would be hours and maybe tests in a crowded A&E department with a further risk of no outcome and more wasted time.
The last episode of 'Beck' on BBC Four this evening, an all too short series this time, sad to say.
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