No answers

 Up at seven thirty getting ready to walk to an appointment for medical tests at St David's Hospital. I was five minutes late, but worse than that had been given an eight thirty appointment which was incorrectly communicated to me. The nurse was looking for me in the lobby, a familiar face and voice. Catherine the acupuncturist who worked on me a decade ago, whose daughter Clare taught in the Steiner school. Quite a surprise! She steered me through a series of procedures to assess mobility, general fitness, cognition, an electro cardio graph, blood pressure tested standing, sitting and lying down. What with the conversations between tests, my blood pressure as usual was scarily high. I got to see an expert geriatric consultant, to go through the results. The conversation was intense and I was able to vent my frustration at being given medication that makes me feel ill every day, not better. I learned that I needed a blood test while fasting to assess my cholesterol, so I will get an appointment for that. I need to know if the statins I am obliged to take are justified by my actual cholesterol levels. The surgery didn't propose this. 

I will have to wear a blood pressure monitor 24/7 for a week to assess how 'normal' are the spikes and troughs in my blood pressure readings. I did this ten years ago and that delivered no useful information. I just hope newer kit will work more consistently. My night's sleep is broken enough already without the disturbance of being strapped to an uncomfortable machine. Blood tests were taken. No change in medication for now until the data provides an overall picture of my health condition to work from. I was told the clot dispersal meds are a life sentence, despite the havoc they wreak on my intestines, and the leaky wounds that are the result of taking them. Diet and exercise are what's needed to promote health. The impact of the meds deprives me of two to three hours' sleep a night and that is doing me no good whatsoever. No answers that would improve my quality of life. No wonder I still feel angry and resentful. The medics seem unconcerned that sleep loss is impeding my recovery, and affecting my mental health and well being. 

It was after two when I got home. Clare had already eaten after her morning eye appointment, so I cooked a veggie pasta dish for myself, then slept for a couple of hours. While waiting for her afternoon flight Sara and I started exchanging messages,  worried about the transfer to the Cardiff coach. It worked perfectly, and I went to meet her at Sophia Gardens at seven fifteen. The coach station has bad lighting and signage. I know the location well, but it was so dark, that with my visual impairment and fatigue, I had trouble identifying and reaching the arrival area. Sara was off the coach and I had to call her in order to make contact. Once we'd found each other drizzle turned into proper light rain. Then we walked to the Elgano Guest House where she is staying to check in, then home for supper. For her it was an hour later, so she left us by taxi at nine, and will be back for breakfast at nine tomorrow. I'm exhausted after a demanding day both physically and mentally, so tired my typo count is high, like my blood pressure. I need sleep, lots of it.

Kath on the case

Another damp and overcast day, but not much rain. I slept badly, losing sleep rehearsing things I needed to take care of today, but eventually woke up clear headed and sharp to start with. I posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to the Parish WhatsApp prayer thread when I got up for breakfast at eight. 

The toxic impact of the meds was not as pronounced as has been before until I started to tire in the afternoon. i made a start on writing a Reflection for next week when it's Ash Wednesday and completed it late in the day. I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. Eleven of us at today's service. I cooked lunch while Clare was out shopping, then went for a walk in the park after eating. I asked Kath's help in contacting TalkTalk to ask for a copy of our final account bill, which I think may need challenging. She certainly succeeded in getting results I despaired of getting. While I was walking in the park at sunset. She tracked the TalkTalk equipment return parcel to its destination from the Post Office receipt. I'd been unable to figure out how to extract this info. 

She obtained screenshot evidence that parcel delivery had been fulfilled. She then set about contacting TalkTalk accounts, logging into their website and using their default direct messaging app to pursue her request for a final account closing bill. The login process using my personal credentials established on their system, rejected my password to hinder the process of gaining access. Exactly the same frustration I had with it that led me to close my user unfriendly TalkTalk account.

Kath did get through and accessed the Direct Messaging app. She was able to download the record of exchanges which I was unable to do. I'm promised a paper bill in a week or so, but am unsure I'll receive a .pdf version as well. I'm promised a phone call from their accounts office about the final account bill.  Kath has found the necessary evidence to support our demand for an explanation of the large direct debit. There's a strong likelihood this call will happen before I have a copy of the bill to scrutinise.

Ashley and I had a long conversation about this affair and he said there were several breaches of consumer legislation in the way this issue has been dealt with by TalkTalk giving grounds for legal action against the company, and these would support a complaint made to OFCOM. Processing all this information, given  how tired I am today, was overwhelming. I need a respite from thinking in order to recover and prepare for whatever comes next.

After supper I watched a couple of undemanding episodes of 'Patience' to relax before bed. All round medical examination first thing in the morning. Stayed up too late again. 

Awful day

Intermittent rain all day. I slept badly, only five hours, troubled by the discovery of the large amount of money direct debited from my bank account by TalkTalk yesterday, having not received a final bill from account closure a month ago. 

BT sent a notification of our incoming first bill. I failed to remember which bank account that direct debit would come out of and went to open the My BT app on my phone to find out. It responded to the pass code I set OK, but I couldn't locate destination bank details. I closed and then re-opened the app to check elsewhere, and the app demanded a password instead of the code. It's a very strong one, and I may have mis-typed it. It took me to a 'captcha' page requiring me to identify bicycles in a grid of images puzzle to prove I'm not a robot. The images weren't sharp enough and far too small to recognise the correct number even with specs on. So I was locked out. Added to this, the daily meds made me so light headed and slow thinking I was struggling to cope verbally when I called the BT help line and explained the problem. 

Identifying myself was a nightmare. I was sent a security code by SMS and email, but neither came through. I had to spend ten minutes giving other i/d details verbally to get recognised. The assistant was able to remind me of the account info I needed. One less thing to worry about. The security code email arrived an hour after the call ended. Network latency generating panic. It's easy to see how cyber attacks cause panic and confusion. Digital technology has made us a cruel rod for our backs.

It turned out that I needed to visit a BT/EE shop in town to get help to sort out the problem. This gave me two reasons to go into town pronto. It wasn't easy navigating the streets, dragging my feet, prematurely tired. After a late panic stricken breakfast I went on the bus . First to HSBC to cancel the TalkTalk direct debit, where an advisor gave me phone numbers to call TalkTalk and demand a copy of the final bill and an explanation for the exorbitant sum. Not a task I look forward to. Next to BT/EE where a demure young lady about Jasmine's age did the phone trouble shooting with me to reinstate pass code access.

Drizzle turned into heavy rain on the way home. My rain jacket got soaked while walking from the bus to home. Clare had been out at a study group, but returned before me and cooked pasta for lunch, before going out to meditation group. I slept for an hour, then walked in the rain until sunset, which cleared my head of the worst effects of the medication. Two jackets to dry out overnight. 

I spent the evening after supper making tomorrow's Morning Prayer video slideshow, later than usual as I was recording a chapter of the Lent Book last Tuesday. It disrupted my routine and I didn't get around to finishing the job. It meant going to bed late with my brain taking ages to slow down. I find that working late doesn't do me any good nowadays

Sharp practice

Yet another overcast, damp and drizzly day. In the news Aberdeen was reported as being covered by cloud continuously for three weeks. Wind from the west has given Wales occasional clear sky days in that time. I wish the medication clouding my brain each day at the moment would go away. It starts within an hour of taking morning meds at nine and doesn't clear until tea time, if not later.

There was a bank statement in the morning's post with a deduction of £171 taken by TalkTalk. I've had no final account statement paper document , nor digital notification email to enable me to question this final figure. I had expected a final bill for the second half of December and up to 9th January when the account closed, line rental amounting to £40 - £50. I have proof I returned TalkTalk's equipment in December. This really upset me. 

Kath sent me a link to BBC's 'You and Yours' consumer programme to tell the story to their Watchdog team. It took me three hours to write a detailed account in an email and copies of supporting evidence. I received an acknowledgement, but there's no guarantee the Watchdog team will investigate. 

Many of my written exchanges with TalkTalk over the past five months were by Direct Message. I was unsuccessful in copying or downloading any of these as a record of the process, I couldn't find a means to do so. There is a separate trail of SMS messages relating to several complaints I've made which TalkTalk alleges were resolved. These are linked to some kind of on-line dispute resolution service for which I have neither had time or patience to follow up, or contest. Life is too short for that, especially when you're unwell. Making the procedure opaque is a sure way to deter clients from pursuing any further. 

If anyone is unable to make a copy of messages coming from the TalkTalk Direct Messaging server to support contention over the 'resolved' complaint, it becomes too daunting to pursue.  The same applies when money is taken from your account before receiving and agreeing an itemised final bill. I have proof of postage for my return of TalkTalk equipment. There's no reason why I should be charged for non-return if it got lost in transit or at the recycling warehouse. No reason for not mailing me a paper copy of the final account. In cancelling my TalkTalk service back in December I was informed I'd lose my TalkTalk email address which I hardly ever used. There would be no reason to email a final bill to that address, unless to make the final reckoning more opaque. They already have a record of my Gmail account for security purposes. This issue is either a matter of monumental administrative incompetence or malpractice. I'm hoping the 'You and Yours' team will look into this. This would support a complaint to OFCOM or make one on my behalf. We'll see.

It was gone four by the time I went out for a walk. I certainly needed fresh air and exercise after sending this story to 'You and Yours'. It started to rain, and gusts of wind as it was getting dark made an effort to break my brolly detaching the handle section from the rest. Not a pleasant evening. A troubling day feeling out of control of this faceless situation and angry with its impositions. I hope I can sleep tonight.

Imagining creation

Cloudy again but no rain until sunset. We went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's, which included an infant baptism. There were about sixty of us present, including children. Today in the church's lectionary is Creation Sunday when Genesis chapter one is read. It's a wonderful poetic ritualistic account of the Word at work, commanding order to emerge out of primeval chaos represented by water. First a cosmic bubble is made, as the setting in which the rest of God's creative activity unfolds. I started pondering on what experience prompted this metaphor. Did rhia come from having one's head under water with eyes open? 

Then what about the passage on the third day of creation where God declares 'Let the waters under the sky be gathered together into one place, and let dry land appear.' Watching a rock emerge from the sea as the tide goes out might prompt this metaphor, but the poet would more likely have been observing water level changes as a flood subsides in the river Euphrates, revealing banks of silt built up by the current, and then their development into small islands colonised by sprouting vegetation that stabilises them. 

Progression from simple chaos to complex life and ecosystems is described by the poet, interpreted as ordered by the divine Word. It's not speculation but observation of the real world in the language of ancient poetry. It's not allegory. Architecture and managing construction isn't mentioned as part of the divine identity. Only God's voice is mentioned. This poet doesn't anthropomorphise the author of the material world. 'In the beginning was the Word ...' as St John summarises creation, some time later in biblical history.

The morning meds had a bad effect on me, feeling light headed and slightly faint again despite drinking extra water to counteract the impact. It could be that I'm peeing out slightly more than I drink, slowly dehydrating without realising. need even more water to maintain the right balance. My stomach feels full when I've drunk what I believe is enough fluid. It's making my life a misery.

We went for a walk after lunch, down to Blackweir Bridge, then crossing over the Taff and walking the muddy path through Bute Park woods down to and over the Millennium Bridge and calling in to the Pedal Power cafe for an excellent cup of coffee on the way back. It was open later than the usual winter opening time as cyclists were gathering for a lantern walk/ride at dusk. Several two seat tricycles were decked out with large decorative lanterns, carnival style. One of them carried a paper lantern in the image of a large white swan. The procession goes round the park and some streets in the vicinity including people with disabilities, carers and cycling activists. A lovely community based initiative. 

By the time we got home at six we'd both walked 10 kilometres today. It was only towards the end of our walk that my head cleared and my legs unstiffened. I look forward to this Wednesday's 'medical MOT' to discuss with someone knowledgeable about this. After supper I watched a couple of episodes of 'Patience' before heading for bed.

Privacy misused - a cloak for wrongdoing

Another damp and cloudy day. I slept fairly well, and the meds didn't have such a toxic light headed effect on me. Instead of pancakes for breakfast, Clare cooked drop scones. Although there's an egg in the recipe, they didn't disagree with my digestion, apart from a slight aftertaste  A pleasant change. 

Once more the morning news was dominated by reports of the fallout from publication of documents exposing the reach of corrupt financier Geoffrey Epstein's discreet sex crime network. Revelations about the private lives of wealthy high status people including financiers, politicians, diplomats and royalty, has brought public disgrace upon them. 

The often controversial reputation of Peter Mandelson, appointed as US ambassador and later sacked, is an embarrassment for the prime minister, calling into question his sense of judgement. Mandelson has quit the Labour Party and resigned from the House of Lords. He is now being investigated for misconduct in public office, after the disclosure that he leaked market sensitive information to benefit Epstein during the 2008 financial crisis. It's being described as a betrayal of his country. 

So much political life and the process of government happens behind the scenes in private or in secrecy to avoid misleading the public, or to hinder the distortion of information to raise fear uncertainty and doubt. Everyone has a right to privacy to protect their reputation and social standing, but it can be misused, serve a screen to conceal wrong doing. The lust for wealth, status and power can easily tempt individuals to act only in their own interests and lead to immoral decisions and actions, if there's little prospect of exposure and being called to account. When it comes to exclusive networks of rich influential people, corruption can spread far and wide without being challenged. 

In these secularised times, worship of our Creator and accountability to One who is above and beyond all that exists has been supplanted by worship of self centred ego, accountable to nobody other than those we choose to acknowledge, whom we know or are known by. A sense of right and wrong, of what is just and wicked gets perverted by unhealthy appetites and impulses, constructing an illusory sense of self, preserved by avoiding the scrutiny of moral judgement, by secretly getting away with behaviour few if any regard as beneficial. 

The biblical story of Adam's Fall is understood to describe rebellion against God's will in the name of freedom and knowledge, as the primary cause of human suffering. Human beings learn from experience to discern the difference between what is just and good, or what is unjust and wicked. We have a choice to take between the life giving path to divine blessing and mortal chaos. When Adam and Eve realise they are naked, they feel ashamed of themselves. No hiding place for them from their rebellious naughtiness. No secrets, only unwelcome consequences.

We had salmon soup for lunch, as we do when we receive our periodic fish delivery order from Ashton's. Clare fell soundly asleep in her armchair when we'd eaten, so I went out for a walk. When she woke up and saw I'd gone out, she sent me a message asking where I was and saying she'd taken the bus into town to exchange a coat she purchased yesterday. I was meant to go with her and assumed that she was too tired to go. Crossed wires unfortunately.

I cooked chestnut mushrooms on toast for supper, with a fried egg for Clare and bacon for me. Real comfort food for miserable damp weather. Another episode of 'Patience' to watch after supper, a story that first appeared in the 'Astrid - Murder in Paris' series. I'd be interested to re-watch the French version for comparison, but sleep is more appealing.

Lactose legacy

Higher cloud cover today. It's not so dull, but damp nevertheless with fine drizzle. I took soya milk kefir yoghourt with porridge oats for breakfast. The difference it made from yesterday when I had a dairy milk kefir version was noticeable. Although I was light headed and not that clear headed or sharp, my head felt  less like a headache was imminent. In addition to the effect of the meds, there's no gall bladder to process milk fats and side effects are noticeable.

After breakfast I set about making a video streaming file to enclose the Lent Book audio made last night, and posted it to WhatsApp. On checking the audio I found several minutes' worth which needed further editing. I also missed a titling error in the audio - 'retrieving Jesus' instead of 'receiving Jesus'.  I had to take down the WhatsApp posting, re-edit and upload the video to YouTube and post it again.

It's a result of being poorly and tired when I was working on the project last night, and my concentration failing. I wasn't successful in making all the changes. The tiredness in my voice was noticeable, stumbling over words, needing to repeat sentences. Not my best effort. A project I felt confident I could do turned out to be more difficult than anticipated. I bit off more than I could chew. There's only so much I can manage after losing sleep. Part of recovery has to be pushing back boundaries to learn my limits of capability. I'm not sure I understand where my limits lie. I'm so used to pushing myself hard when I no longer need to, driven by the need to make myself useful. As if that mattered as  much to other people as it does to me!

I cured the 'File error - disk full' glitch on my Dell laptop, by running its disk cleanup app. I was surprised how long it took. Successive Windows updates leave a trail of redundant temporary files, amounting to gigabytes of space being consumed uselessly.

After supper Clare wanted to watch the film 'Bohemian Rhapsody' live on Film 4, but the lack of a digital aerial for the new TV prevented this. We can only watch streamed content at the moment. So annoying that digital signal reception is so poor where we live. We need a suitable rooftop antenna or a freeview digibox. She watched the film live on the Chromebook, and I watched this week's streamed episode of Astrid on my Windows laptop.