Poor communication

Overcast today. I slept fairly well, but I didn't feel refreshed on waking up and felt unwell after taking the meds, which clouded my head and left me feeling drowsy for most of the day. There was a missed phone call from British Gas Home Care and an email flagging up the cancellation of our direct debit, notifying us of cancellation fees. Our bank account shows a cancellation fee has been taken. We are still waiting for the confirmation of that cancellation. Two weeks ago I wrote to British Gas customer services to notify them of the cancellation of our direct debit, but had no acknowledgement. This is distressing and not easy to cope with when I'm feeling unwell. I emailed a copy of the letter to a customer services address with a request for clarification about what I owe now. Looking back, engaging in the contract happened rather too smoothly and easily for me to question at the time. Or maybe the problem is that I can't think fast enough there days to take in all the details.

Then I had a notification from the NHS app to say I've been removed from the 'Rehabilitation Medicine' waiting list I was informed I'm on last week, with no idea of why I'd been put on that list to start with. Having to approach the GP surgery staff to ask for clarification can be pretty futile. The medics make the referral and may not be available to ask without the hassle of booking an appointment and wasting their time. In my spam folder I found a dodgy email purporting to come from NHS app administrators. Either Android or Chrome OS is leaking information to third party crook somewhere in cyberspace.

Posters for the next Sonrisa Arts 'Dance in the Dark' tour arrived in the post, for us to put up in the church hall, on Chapter's community noticeboard, and Canton library children's section. After lunch I went to the library and asked if I could put up a poster. I was disconcerted and disappointed to be denied permission as the poster isn't bi-lingual. Considering it's a dance performance with sound and movement, without speech I thought this was mean spirited, even if it is compliant to the letter of the law. Clare is thinking about how she can modify the poster to make it bi-lingual. If it had been thought about and prepared from scratch, the cost of translation, design and production would be prohibitive on a modest budget.

After this set-back I went out to buy veggies. By that time both local greengrocers were closed, so I went and bought what we needed in Tesco's instead. After supper I walked up and down Llandaff Fields for three quarters of an hour at sunset, dark by eight o'clock. At last my head is clear after a miserable foggy brain day. Bed beckons.

LPA dispatched

Going to bed earlier didn't make any difference to the amount of sleep I got - less than I really need. I felt unwell in addition. I needed to drink more water than usual. Despite my daily effort to drink sufficiently, it never seems to be enough. Dehydration creeps in due to the diuretic effect of medication and it takes a few hours for the ill effects to disappear after drinking a litre.

When Clare went for her hairdo with Chris yesterday, she took with her my Lasting Power of Attorney application document for him to sign. His signature was the last one to be added before I sign and date it. As we've not seen him for a while the application neared its time expiry date, and I received a chase-up reminder to get on with the job. After breakfast I did the signing and then took the two documents to the Post Office. They cost twenty one pounds first class recorded delivery. I just hope there are no un-noticed errors in them.

A message arrived on the NHS app to say that I'm now on a General Surgery waiting list. It informed me that the average wait time for a consultation is ten weeks and that ten per cent of people waiting have to wait twenty nine weeks. For treatment, the wait is twenty one weeks and that ten percent of people have to wait seventy one weeks! 

After preparing and eating lunch I went to Jason's greengrocer's to stock up on veg, still in a drowsy toxic haze, feeling as if I am sleepwalking. It's not good for confidence when walking outdoors. Another NHS app message arrived offering a consultation on 9th November, nine weeks from now. And that's the result of an 'urgent' referral. As for nursing support for the bum boil, forget it. Fortunately the wound is behaving healthily so far. A general surgery examination and scan might identify vulnerability in a wound scar that can be dealt with, or lead to some infection preventative measure.

We walked together in Llandaff Fields for half an hour before supper, then watched a documentary on iPlayer about jazz creative genius Miles Davis called 'Birth of the Cool', the title of his first record album. Listening to tracks accompanying the storytelling took me back to being sixteen again and hearing this new music for the first time on scoutmaster Penry Jones's record player. Marvellous memories.

Kafkaesque NHS

It rained during the night, with a drop in temperature and an increase in humidity enough to wake me up feeling slightly chilled. I put on a warm dressing gown but didn't sleep well thereafter and felt tired all day. A wet overcast day. Each time there's been a torrential downpour lately water has been overshooting the gutter and running down the wall outside the kitchen window. The gutter along the edge of the roof was set too close to the edge of the  bottom tile - possibly a consequence of the re-roofing job done a few years ago. The gutter needed re-aligning in relation to the tiles and set at a different gradient to improve water run-off. It's become more noticeable with the increase of extreme weather events this past year or so. Clare arranged for a visit from a guttering specialist. A morning's work in persistent drizzle for two men - £400. I stayed in with her while the job was being done and missed the Wednesday Eucharist at St Catherine's. We won't know how successful the adjustment made to the guttering will be until there's another torrential downpour.

After lunch I set out on foot for an acupuncture appointment at Parkwood Clinic feeling very lethargic and stiff, so I took the bus from the stop opposite the Half Way pub. The treatment boosted my energy enough for me to walk over the Riverside clinic on my way back home, to check with a wound treatment nurse if my referral for treatment had been received. That was how I learned the district nurses' treatment room is now at St David's hospital. The receptionist gave me the phone number for the district nurse 'hub' which I called when I got home. 

I wasn't able to find out if I'd been referred for treatment, or when I would hear about an appointment. I was advised to call the GP surgery which I did. The receptionist was unable to help as Dr Mullaney, who made the 'urgent' referral, wasn't on duty to ask. All I know from the app is that I'm on a 'Rehabilitation Medicine' waiting list, whatever that is, but no information is communicated about how long the queue is, or what it leads to. It's like being inside a novel by Kafka. It seems the left hand of NHS services doesn't know what the right hand is doing. Just as well the wound seems to be drying out and isn't inflamed at the moment.

The drizzling rain eased off mid afternoon. I walked up and down Llandaff Fields for an hour before supper to clear my head and complete my daily step quota, despite physical tiredness. Without the acupuncture treatment I wouldn't have been able to summon the effort. Bed even earlier tonight.

Messages about messages

Cloudy and damp today. I slept quite well and remained clear headed after waking up and taking my pills with breakfast. My Fitbit sleep tracker reports that I sleep better with fewer interruptions in the first half of the night. Wakefulness in the second half is due to medication induced churning bowels and trapped wind. Winding down and going to bed earlier seems to be worth the effort.

I had a notification from the NHS app when I switched on my phone. On logging in, another notification stated that I would expect to receive a letter by mail from the GP surgery. It was unclear what this is about. A waiting list was mentioned at the top of the notification, but which waiting list? For what purpose?  This assumes I know I'm on a waiting list but doesn't take into account the fact that I may be on several waiting lists for different things at the same time. No matter how smart the communications technology may be, if the message conveyed leaves you guessing it's useless. Another instance of 'Garbage in, garbage out'.

Clare went to her study group in Penarth this morning and I cooked sausages and veg for lunch. She went out again by taxi straight after we'd eaten for a clinic appointment at Llandough. I stayed in to welcome the meditation group she belongs to, meeting chez nous today, double booked accidentally. There were just three of us, sitting in silence together for half an hour with the words 'love wins'. I sat with my eyes open, gaze directed without inquiring or reflecting towards a leather pouffe opposite my armchair, trying to be consciously present in the moment without turning in on myself or dozing off. No insight, no feelings. Few prayerful words. No discussion afterwards. No pasa nada.

After the session I walked in Llandaff Fields for three quarters of an hour. A cold strong blustery wind tried to blow me over. In the last stretch a heavy shower soaked my hat and top jacket, so I didn't go as far as I wanted to and reached home feeling annoyed.

Rachel rang up at supper time. She told us that Jasmine is in Copenhagen, but unfortunately she's unwell, probably 'flu. I hope it's not serious as she's a long way from family support. 

After supper, I completed writing a Reflection on the Morning Prayer passage from Colossians due to be read in a couple of weeks time, then I made an effort to get to bed even earlier, to see if it makes any difference.