0230hrs: Sprang awake with an image of me in a big sewer come drainage pipe with my jammies on, trying to do a Rubik’s cube that kept falling apart and turning into Oxo cubes. Perhaps it was part of a dream? I’ve never seen or handled one in my life.
Demand for a WRHD session presented itself, and I dismounted the working perfectly but noisily £300 second-hand recliner and made my way to the porcelain room – the stench and stink from last nights Whoopsidenagleplop with the burnt oven-cooking was lingering tenaciously and malodorously. Performed the WRHD session, with no bleeding at all from Haemorrhoid Harold!
Into the kitchen and took the morning medications and opened the window a bit, then sprayed some air freshener around, but it didn’t clear or mask any of the foul smell of burnt lamb juice, that with the flat being so small, had permeated everywhere. Phoo!
If I get out today to try and get to the Sainsbury store again (Hopefully catching the right bus this time, Hehe!), I’ll see if they have any active fresheners on sale.
I stood looking out of the window for a while. My dereistic view on life filtering into my thoughts and a sort of mild melancholy came over me for a few moments.
I pondered on how the horrible fetor in the flat could be alleviated, went to look in the cabinet to see if I had anything capable of being used effectively, stubbed my toe on the scales and lost interest.
I had an idea to do something with this photo for the TFZ site later, given time that is.
Took a close-up of the house wit the decorations outside, they had altered and changed them around Good effort.
Did some work on the diaries and got one posted off, then went onto CorelDraw to start the TFZ Cooks graphic from scratch.
Spent too much time on the job again, got to rush now to catch the bus… Tsk!
Ablutionised in record time ad down to the bus stop. Where I proceeded to get carried away again with nattering to some tenants and… hard to believe, but I got on the wrong bus again!
I stayed on all the way to town, then caught a bus out to Arnold.
Dropped off outside the Sainsbury store and proceeded to collect some Yushoi Soy & Balsamic Rice nibbles, a parsnip, two small turnips, two large King Edward potatoes and a Sourdough loaf of bread.
Walked into Arnold proper and purchased twp cans of fabric freshener.
Hobbled up to the bus stop and as I waited, espied that the vandalised bench seat had not been attacked again since my last photograph taken of it. Hehe!
Nice chinwag and laugh with a gal on the bus as the darkness began to fall earlier than ever today.
Got into number 72 and attended the porcelain demands for a WRHD session. And it was heavy duty too, a bit bloody. Took the medications along with an added Senna tablet. Got a feeling that things were going to get tough in the WRHD department. Tsk!
Got the meal cooking and watched some of a DVD film.
Made sure I didn’t nod off this time.
Tomatoes on Sourdough bread, pickled mushrooms, strong cheddar cheese, foul tasting bland BBQ chicken legs, Cox’s dessert apple, appetising baked potatoes with cheese. Followed by a pot of mandarins in orange jelly.
Finished watching the film and got the TV on in plenty of time to watch the most welcome double-bill of Hetty Wainthrope Investigates. Tried to make sure I could enjoy these: I visited the porcelains, made sure all the lights and taps were not left on, brought the pain gel, sure the diamorphine and antacid were all to hand – so determined I was to enjoy my second favourite ever programme undisturbed!
Fell asleep at the first commercial break – Gnash!
Stirred around 0330hrs: Again disappointed at my not recalling any of the dreams whatsoever. Just vague emotions. Tsk!
Within seconds, the feared wet, warm and tingling from the lower regions made itself felt as soon as I moved in the £300 second-hand recliner.
Dismounted the working faultlessly £300 second-hand recliner, tripped over a bottle of spring water and off to the wetroom for a WRHD session and investigated the state of Little Inchy. His state was not good. Much thick blood all over, but at least I managed to clean up the area and stop the bleeding a bit quicker this morning compared tp last night. Another strong kitchen towel roll finished off. Haha!
Made a cuppa and took the medications, got the computer going and emailed the surgery for an appointment, and the clinic was asking if my next appointment can be brought forward at all.
Worked on the diaries and did some graphics. Did one of Nottingham for the TFZers.
Then another for a bit of fun about TFZer pets in my wetroom. Hehe!
0645hrs: Having the Morrisons delivery coming twixt 0739 > 0830hrs, I got the ablutions done.
A lemon scented soap session again this not so cold morning.
Back to the computer and carried on. Getting to Facebooking eventually.
Got the chairs ready for the visitors, plenty if nibbles in pots spread about, kitchen towels if needed if they had a sniffle and bags with their presents and bites for Christmas to hand.
1040hrs: Made another cuppa and had a look out of the kitchen window to see if I could spot if Jane & Pete was arriving.
As I took the photographicalisation and wondered if the third car to the left was theirs, the doorbell sounded.
It was Jane and Pete coming.
So cheer-making to see them.
Chinwagged while I made them a brew of tea. Then ensconced themselves in the front room chairs. Pete in the £300 second-hand recliner, Jane in the £35 broken second-hand comfy, cuddly chair that I got from the Sue Ryder charity shop and paid £30 for delivery of.
Cheerful Pete on his mobile and Jane delving into the nibbles.
Good news from Jane, she had been to have a test at the QMC to see what her problem was she’d been suffering with, and got the all clear on the ‘Big C’. It was identified as Globus Hystericus and was treatable.
Good news, for us all! Yeehaa!
We nattered further for a while. Then, they showed interest in my new Dyson V6 cleaner. Memories turned over.
I gave them their pressies and nibbles in different bags, Red for the girl Jane and Blue for Boy Pete. Hehehe!
They gave me my present and one for Olive in thanks for looking after me.
A tin of shortcake biscuits with a tree on top, that when wound up played a Christmas tune with a beautifully written message for Angel Olive.
Walked them to the lifts when it the time for them to depart arrived. Felt a bit bad afterwards when I realised I’d not given Jane a peck on the cheek. Tsk! Dumbo me!
Went into the kitchen to turn over the two ginormous Wilja potatoes that I was boiling in the biggest saucepan I own, on the lowest setting.
I think it will take a couple more hours to get them right, then I intend to drain them and slice them putting the resulting feast into the oven along with two lamb leg steaks I had delivered from Morrisons earlier.
Back on the computer to update the diaries and have another spell on the TFZers site.
I was pleased with the food, perhaps one of my better attempts at real tasty cuisine? Mixed beans in tomato sauce with a touch of Worcester sauce and tomato puree with basil added.
The lamb leg steaks into the oven, then I added the boiled potatoes having quartered them to soak up the lambs leakages of tasty juice – Roasted them very slowly for about 40 minutes or so.
Burnt the edges of the potatoes nicely, and for once, the well-done lamb was not cooked to a crisp Hehe!
The presented fodder looked okay to me and tasted fantastic. Had a cheese roll with it and an apple with orange juice.
It was grand! I felt like a right patrician.
Indications from the innards suggested I attend the porcelain for a WRHD session again. Things are firming up again in this department. I took a Senna with the evening medications.
There was a good choice of TV programmes for me to fall asleep watching tonight. And I did! Hehe!
0440hrs: Woke, annoyed that I could recall no details of the dreams I’d been having again! A feeling that they were not nice prevailed.
Roger Reflux was being naughty, and I was doing rather a lot of coughing and sneezing? However, the weariness of last night, disseminated.
Out of the £300 second-hand recliner, that worked impeccably this morning and off for a WRHD session. No bleeding from Little Inchy or Haemorrhoid Harold. Another decent start to the day eh?
Into the kitchen to take the medications then made a cuppa. Got the computer on and diaries tended to.Bash on Facebook.
Had a bash on Facebook.One
Shirley, one of the TFZer gals had posted a beautiful photograph from when she was just 21 years-of-age. Mind you, she still looks a cracker to me now.
Made up this graphicalisation on the right, placing Shirley in with some men cooks and added some bits of fodder and drinkies into the mix as well. Took me ages, but I enjoyed doing it, and it came out not too bad I thought. I hope they like it.
Did the ablutions, a lemon scented soap one this time with Citrus antiperspirant used afterwards. Cut myself shaving, and it hardly bled at all. The haemoglobin seemed very thick?
Got prepared and wrapped up well and down to the bus-stop. Nice chinwag with many other tenants there.
Got into town and walked over the footbridge into the Victoria Centre. Into the Next Store and purchased a Gift Voucher for Sister Jane.
Then to the market for the stocking up on Christmas nuts.
Along to the end of the top floor and into the Man Shop. Fascinating place, spend ages pondering before I got two pressies for Jane and Pete.
Poddled along to a shop called Tiger, I think. Had all odd, unusual things on sale. Spent a good while in there and got some more bits for Christmas for Jane and Pete.
Down to the ground floor and popped into Tesco. Their Sourdough Bread had only one day left on the best before date. Humph! I avoided the fresh cream cakes aisle. Got some cheesy seaweed snacks, cheesy cobs and lamb chops.
Out and through Trinity Square and to the bus stop to catch a bus to the GUM clinic – Huh! Luckily I realised the appointment was for next Tuesday, not this one before I got on the wrong bus.
At the bus shelter, I noticed damage to the little seating area as I rested the bags on the bench.
I tried to picture what would nave caused this injury to the seat and the, in particular, the thick metal end support, that had been torn and bent away from the structure.
No one on the bus to talk to. Very few passengers at all on the bus.
Then it started raining.
In the flats, I called on Olive, who was not in.
To number 72 and got the meal started earlier than usual, due to a sudden attack of hunger pangs.
Popped in for a WRWW and oh dearie me… Little Inchy had been and was still flowing with blood. Thick blood again.
Took me ages to stop it. Cleaned up, changed certain clothing items and applied the Daktacort cream. Feeling very uncomfortable then.
Checked on the food in the oven and saucepan and went back into the porcelain room to check the warm wet sensation in lower regions. I thought for a few moments I was really going potty here: I turned on the power switch for the shower instead of the wetroom light, got in, dark of course, and I pulled the wall heater string in error for the light switch pull. Came out after cleaning up and again, turned the switch to the shower power instead of the light switch! I stopped for a few seconds, actually wondering what the hell was I doing, and heard a noise down the hall. Checked and it was the INR Anticoagulation Results in the letter box. A bit late I thought for the postman?
Maybe the noise I heard was some bags going down the rubbish chute? Must have been, cause even with the hearing aids in. I don’t hear anything coming through the letter box usually.
Anyway, the INR level was very nearly spot on – so this informed me that the Warfarin level was not the cause of the bleeding from Little Inchy being so thick?
Got the fodder all prepared and served up.
I did enjoy it, but could not eat it all.I must try to make smaller servings in future.
I must try to make smaller meals in future.
Then I’ll moan about there not being enough to eat?
Hehehe!
Settled to watch some old ‘Heartbeat’ DVD episodes. Fell asleep and woke up coughing badly for a few seconds, then that horrible warm wet sensation manifested itself in the lower regions!
I was despondent to find what I expected, Little Inchy had been pouring again, what a mess, and he started tingling badly this time? Cleaned and sanitised my flobby body parts again, and returned to the £300 second-hand recliner and the DVD.
Couldn’t concentrate on it, though, the mind started racing and bickering with itself for some unknown reason. Jane and Pete coming tomorrow, have I got everything ready… will Little Inchy cause me more bother? Did I turn off the taps and light in the wetroom and kitchen? Did I take the evening medications? (I hadn’t, so I got out of the comfort of the £300 second-hand warmly covered recliner and took the medicines, checked the lights and taps at the same time, none left on). Did I leave the mobile in my jacket pocket? (Out of the chair again to check, I had left in in the pocket and the battery was almost out, so I put it in charge and returned to the recliner again) Did I turn off the oven and cooker?
Somewhere amidst this cacophony of confused out of control brain activity, I fell asleep…
Didn’t get to sleep until well after midnight – then persistent dreams, it seemed like one long continuous one, I reckon it was full of regrets and failure. Yet I once again can recall no details for certain at all.
Around 0420hrs I woke and pondered on the things that needed to get done today.
Out of the £300 second-hand, working rather shakily recliner and off for a WRWW. Little Inchy was still sore.
Into the kitchen to make a cuppa and get the medications ready. Took a photograph at the top of the page, by bravely opening the window to get a better less reflective shot. It surprised me with it not being so cold with the fog stroke mist out there this morning.
Responded to the innards demand, for a WRHD session with trepidations. But all was well indeed! No Haemorrhoid Harold bleeding at all. Anne Gyna was absolutely fine with me. Roger Reflux Valve hardly any bother at all! Duodenal Daniel not the slightest hassle! Even Arthur Itis was in a good mood with me! All this, along with Little Inchy’s lesion not bleeding, cheered me up. Good!
Sorted me out and got the computer on, a fresh cuppa and took the morning medications.
A bit of bother with the WordPress gallery not working, but it came back on of its own accord later?
I wondered how I could get to see Jane and Pete and consulted the Google Calendar.
0645hrs now, and I thought (Another rarity there, hehehe!) I’d call Pete to see if we could arrange a meet somehow or other. I conceived that I might catch him on his way to the paper shop and ATM. When I rang, he’d just got back a few minutes earlier. We had a natter, with Pete wisely consulting with Jane in between, and it was decided that they would both come up to see me next Wednesday morning. I was even more cheered up now!
I considered taking up numismatics as a hobby. I’ve no idea why I said or thought that?
I poddled into the kitchen again to replace the gotten-cold mug of tea.
Got the inspiration to take the few Estima boiled potatoes in the saucepan, out with me in a bag to nibble on my travels.
While doing this, I realised that the vegetables in stock in the Crock-Pot had not lasted well and were ponging a bit.
So I strained them, put them in a bag then into the black refuse sack. Had to leave the porcelain part of the slow cooker soaking in the bowl in the sink.
Spent a while Facebooking and grahicalisationing.
Did the ablution duties, carbolic soap today.
All ready and wrapped up, a quick check on the weather from the kitchen window, and I set off on the walk to the Nottingham Haematology for the Warfarin INR Level Blood Test.
Trudged up the hill and through the Woodthorpe Park and left down to Mansfield Road.
Just a bit of a nip in the mist this morning, but I kept going, and it was not too bad at all.
No dizzies!
Up into Sherwood, and right down Edwards Lane to the ring road.
Stopped to take a photograph of the traffic coming up Edwards Lane.
The mist was oddly masking the far scenery, I thought if it comes out alright, I might add this to the ‘Moody Photo’ Album on my Facebook page later.
Onward, avoiding many Nottingham Pedestrian-Cyclist on the ring road, and arrived at my destination and took a ‘waiting ticket’ and settled to read my book in the Out-Patients hall.
An hour or so later, after keeping my eye on the roster board, my number came up and I rather foolishly as it turned out, went to the usual ‘Blood-Room door to find it locked’? I looked around rather confused, and a chap laughed at me and pointed in a backwards direction indicating this is where I have to go today. Through a mini-maze of corridors and into an entirely different area of the hospital, I found a nurse stood in the hall waiting for me, and she hastened me into a tiny room to have my blood taken. It appears that the usual room had suffered a water leak and could not be used. Hey-ho, How I managed not to notice that each time the dozens of numbers came up and no one went near the old room, I don’t know – or the signs I saw on my way out informing us of the change. Hehe!
Went to the bus stop to find a number 40 was due in four minutes, so caught it back and thankfully, up Winchester Street Hill.
This picture was taken near the ring road through the bus window.
Dropped off at the Commercial Laundry and hobbled up, turned left to the apartment.
Back at the flats I nipped in to see Olive and got a telling off or two. Collected her empty jars after a nice chinwag.
Back to the flat, and literally did nothing more of any interest worth or bother than collapsing in the £300 second-hand recliner, for some reason almost entirely worn-out?
Very strange this sudden loss of drive and interest?
It took a while for me find the interest in making something to eat, but this seemed to bring me round a bit.
Made a meal with eyes far too ginormous and big for my stomach. Tsk!
Not that it mattered, cause when it came to eating it, the interest had gone and I left most of it.I didn’t eat any of the boiled potatoes
I didn’t eat any of the boiled potatoes.
A sudden feeling of inadequacy, valuelessness and almost a depression came over me – but why I don’t know.
I did nothing more after that, other than fall asleep, wake up, WRWW, fall asleep, wake up, pass wind, TV on, fall asleep, wake up, but I did have many dreams in between, no detailed facts about them remain.
I am getting on a bit and moved into a Nottingham City Homes high-rise aided-flats. I set-up a direct debit to pay British Gas and almost a year later received a demand from them for another account number that had my name and correct address on it. Being partially deaf, I asked Deana, the warden, who contacted BG, and almost two hours later, they told her that this account would be closed on7th June 2016. On the 7th of July 2016, another letter arrived asking if I had forgotten to pay this bill? Julie, the another warden rang them to try and sort this out, but it took so long, her going home time arrived. Seems I may have to pay to have the second (Non-existent) meter removed/disconnected? Four days later, I managed to get Deana to ring again. Eventually, again, they informed her that the account would be closed. I now wait nervously for the next ‘Reminder’. Hey-ho! Well well well… The following Saturday (today) Oh, Marvelous! French Owned British Gas, who last week told Warden Deana the Electricity Bill would be scrapped for the second time, have sent me a Red Letter Bill with threats now! Losing me credit rating – demanding the £250+ I don’t owe them! So frustrated, I did a post about them and put it on Facebook, LinkedIn and on WordPress too! So annoyed with them for lying to my warden twice now! Grrr! So, another demand arrives, and my aided-flat warden rang them again for me. Warden Deana told me once again, the account is to be closed and I have nothing to worry about. (Humph!) Now, a few days later today, I get another demand for this non-existent meter with my name on it, once again for the £250.32. “Call us about the money you owe” is the headline on it! The replacement ticker the angina and sticking reflux valve are not happy with this extra unwarranted hassle from British Gas, especially after Deana rang them for I think the fourth time – now I have to bother her again for a fifth time. After being told on every occasion the account would be closed. My health is suffering over this, and enough is enough! I will be seeking legal advice as recommended by the medical staff. When and if I ever feel up to it! All I want is peace and a hassle-free existence. Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit, I understand, but my patience is getting thin. I hope I don’t snuff it before this is sorted. Where can I get some help on this, can anyone help?
Thursday 28 July 2016: Warden Deana Walker rang British Gas again (Over an hour) for me. This time, a different story emerged: It appears the two tariffs are on the same meter now? They intend to merge the two – thus making my bill twice as much? This after being told three times by British Gas that they had closed this fictional extra account! Deana asked them to send someone out to sort and assess the situation. So, now I await Deana to have a look and then the BG representative getting in touch to arrange a visit… 1220hrs: Ah, Deana is here now talking to British gas as she looks at the meter… She gave the all the details yet again to a different representative who told her the account in question was definitely closed 28th June 2016. This the same account that they are going to merge with my proper account??? She was then put onto someone else and explained it all again to this one. She waited patiently for the return to the phone, of the lady she had been speaking to this time… 1240hrs: Still waiting. 1253hrs: Still waiting… 1258hrs… (Missed her dinner break now!) 1259hrs The Lady (Leigh) returned said Checked on company database, what Abdul told her earlier was incorrect, the account they were still sending out bills for no longer exists! Nice that! I await further developments with an uncomfortable feeling of dread in my old mechanical heart.
Thursday 4th August: British Gas with another Red Demand for payment to the meter they told Warden Dean Walker a few days ago (For the third time!) had been Cancelled! The ladies must have seen how this affected me, and they ran Deana and asked her to call and see me once again Sort out this horrendous situation. This time, French-owned British Gas threatened me that they would get a legal entry warrant and replace the non-existent meter with a payment meter, I’d lose my Credit Rating, and they will pass on my details to Credit Collection Agency!British Gas with another Red Demand for payment to the meter they told Warden Dean Walker a few days ago (For the fourth time!) had been Cancelled! Warden Deana arrived a bit later, and took the paperwork, saying she is going to contact them by email this time, so she has a record, and off she went, too. Heard nothing back from her yet. Terribly worried now! Warden Deana came to see me. She has sent an email to British Gas, awaiting a reply.
Wednesday 10 August: Warden Deana emailed the reply to me from BG. From: Customer Complaints Date: 9 August 2016 12:38:24 BST To: Dean Walker Subject: Your reply from British Gas (18953202) (KMM43902975V30033L0KM)
Dear Ms Walker Thank you for the enquiry you sent regarding Mr Chamber’s account, I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get back to you.
Unfortunately, I am unable to help for the time being, as you are currently not named on the account, and as such I am unable to disclose or change any information regarding the account. This is due to the Data Protection Act. If you would like to be named on the account, please call us on 0800 048 0202* when you are with the account holder, so we can get permission to either speak to yourself or add your name to the account. Alternatively, you can send ina signed power of attorney letter from the account holder, with the account number and details, authorising you to be added to the account. This can be posted, or attached to an email. Our mailing address is: British Gas, PO Box 227, Rotherham, S98 1PD.
Once you have been added to the account, or we have verbal permission from the account holder to discuss the account with yourself, we will be able to disclose any information you require. I apologise for any inconvenience this may cause. Please contact us should you need any help in the future and thank you for contacting British Gas. Kind regards Grace Winearls britishgas.co.uk – Looking after your world
Deana came to the flat at 0955hrs and rang BG and got her name on record as my representative and added her name to the account. (Which account, the actual one or the fictional one, we were not sure) She ran the BG Complaints number, and tried to get put through to them, but had to make do with the Billing section. She explained the situation yet again to this BG agent, and was put through to another agent and explained everything to him as well. To complained to each person she spoke to, and asked them why she could not get through to the complaints department? She was put on hold. (Half an hour on the phone up to here) Someone spoke to her and decided to put her through to someone else again. She was put on hold. She explained everything again to this agent. She was put on hold. She asked for written confirmation that the account had actually been close like he has been verbally told on four occasions now, but the demands continue? She was put on hold. Mr Ricmondo came on the line. We were told it had been cancelled (Again!). She was asked to give the meter readings from the one meter I have. (Which of course is not the meter in question (…67), but the meter I am paying by direct debit (…95). Bewildered we both were! Deana complained again, about not being able to talk to their Complaints Department directly! Her phone battery was now down to one bar. She complained about being kept waiting on hold so often. She was put on hold. Ricmondo returned eventually. 1) It seems an engineer will contact Deana to make an appointment to disconnect the non-existent meter and take the readings? 2) No further demands would be received. (Oh yes, very confident about this we were!) Deana spent 53 minutes in total on hold – the poor woman had lost the will to live!
Wednesday 10th August 2016: British gas, who told Deana five times at least now that the account had been closed, sent me an email request to supply them with a meter reading again, for the supposedly closed mystery meter!?!? It gets more convoluted and worrying as time goes by!
Wednesday 17th August 2016: Despite having been told by Deana not to contact me, but her as she is my sole representative and her contact details being given to BG, they called me on the phone knowing my hearing difficulties. The polite gentleman, whose accent, I found extremely hard to comprehend, wanted to talk to me about the non-existent meter. I informed him of the arrangement for Deana Walker to be contacted as my agent. Then had to give him her contact details for the eighth time at least. Still, no more Red Letter threats and demands again… yet.
19th August 2016: Got a phone call from BG again.
I told them to contact Warden Deana. Later in the day.
Well, fancy that, yet another threatening payment demand arrived! “We will pass your details to a debt collection agency!” “…for a warrant to enter your property and fit a pay as you go meter” Again I receive it on a Friday so I can worry and fret over the weekend before I can get to talk to Deana. The stomach ulcer has started playing up now, along with the Angina.
The dizzy spells are back too!
Tsk!
Monday 22nd August 2016 – 0835hrs:
Hobbled to the Community Hut at the flats and luckily, Deana was in, she called British Gas and asked if she could be put through to the complaints department, this time, she was told they didn’t have a complaints department?
She explained the situation yet again and I had to confirm my authorising her to speak for me.
She was put on hold for fifteen minutes: She was put-on-hold again and eventually ran out of time and had to ring off after 20 minutes! She will try again later and let me know what occurs.
24th August 2016:
Two emails and another demand, for payment of the mystery meter.
Cannot contact Deana to tell her about these.
Having been told they have closed this …67 account numbers, on at least five times, on the following Friday…
I get this copy of an email received sent from British Gas to Deana.
Friday 26th August:
I get these letters from British Gas (As quoted in the email copy).
So, desperate to try and understand if I am being conned or not here now.
Sent an email to Doctor Lynton with a copy of the email, and updated this post, in a desperate effort to get some guidance.
Oh dearie me! Then the email from Deana:
Dear Ms Walker
As you’ll remember, you’ve recently been in touch and asked us to look into an important issue.
My name is Lee Jordan. I’ll be personally handling your complaint and will ensure that it is resolved to your satisfaction as soon as possible.
I’ve tried to contact you on 26th August 2016 but this hasn’t been possible. I’m sorry for any concern that has been caused in regards to the bills that have been produced for Mr Timothy Chambers’ accounts. I’ve had a good look into this for you.
Usually, a property will only have one supply number (known as the MPAN). Due to Mr Chambers having an Economy 10 meter, he has two supply numbers and these are 1100005542430 and 1100005542440.
Account reference 850055308467 is for MPAN 1100005542430.
Account reference 851004170695 is for MPAN 1100005542440.
Mr Chambers’ meter has 5 rates which log the electricity that is being used at different times of the day. The accounts were set up so that two of these rates were being billed on account number 850055308467 and the other three were being billed on account number 851004170695.
Mr Chambers was receiving bills for account number 850055308467 as we only had a Direct Debit set up on 851004170695.
So, why didn’t they tell me when I set it all up?
In order to simplify things, we have now put all five of the readings onto account number 850055308467. This means all future bills for this account will include the total amount of electricity that has been recorded on the meter. A new Direct Debit has been set up for this account. This is now the main account.
No further charges will be applied onaccount number 851004170695. Because of this, the Direct Debit for this account has been cancelled. Upon closing this account, there was a credit of £76.23 on it. This has been transferred over to the new main account 850055308467.
Mr Chambers has used on average £100 per month of electricity since the account opened in June 2015 and his current balance is £375.30. In order to cover the cost of what is being used and to also clear the current balance, his Direct Debit has been set to £134 per month going forward.
Can they do this without my permission?
Please be assured that there is no longer any overdue balance to pay ashis full current balance of £375.30 is included in this Direct Debit payment scheme.
A new statement is on the way to him showing the current balance of £375.30 on his new main account 850055308467. He’ll notice that all five of the readings are together on this statement and the future statements will continue with all the readings together. This statement details the unit rates that are being charged for each rate.
A statement for account number 851004170695 has also been produced. He’ll notice that the balance on this account is zero. As mentioned above, no further charges will be applied to this account.
Mr Chambers may benefit from moving to a supplier that has a specific Economy 10 tariff if he is heating his home during the times that are allocated as the cheap rates. Any supplier with Economy 10 tariffs would be able to give him further advice regarding this.
?????
If you feel I haven’t answered all your questions, or you‘re not satisfied your complaint has been completely resolved, please feel free to contact me on the details above. I’d be more than happy to help you further.
If you’re happy with what’s been done you don’t need to do anything and I’ll make the arrangements to close the complaint down for you on 10th September 2016.
Saturday 17 August 2016:
These arrive in the post: now four letters in two days?
Seems they have done it anyway. Cancelled the old original one, added the mystery one and what was left, on the original one together… This is doing my health no good at all. The Angina and Duodenal Ulcer are both giving me hassle again now, trying to understand why they have lied to me and Deana so often and changed their messages to us?
There is always some politician that generates hatred above all others.
Stalin, Pol Pot, Hitler and now we have Gideon Oliver Osborne.
Just thought I’d mention it. Sorry.
*******
26 March 2016
Actually got up at 2355hrs, totally convinced it was around 0500hrs?
I found out when I got in the bathroom and noticed my little travelling (It hasn’t travelled anywhere yet mind) clock on the toilet top. It was indicating that it was 0002hrs?
I thought the battery might have conked out, so I checked with the computer, and it was right!
I stayed up, made a cuppa and got the laptop on and finished the Nottingham City Homes Part Five funny at last. Then yesterday’s diary and spent hours making some graphics for use later.
Then I started this one off.
To the WC, the clock now telling me it was coming up to 0500hrs now.
Where did the five hours since I got up, go to? Just flew passed.
Made another nice strong cup of tea and took the medications.
Not feeling too bad this morning.
The forecasted wind and rain had not arrived yet.
Took a photographicalisation from through the kitchen window – the window that badly needs cleaning.
Guilt mode adopted here!
I’ll go out early if I can, to get the Hong Kong letter paid for and posted. The lady on the bus yesterday told me where the Post Office in Sherwood had relocated to.
I had a look on Google to see the weeks Rain and Wind forecast.
Wet and windy it is to be then.
Four days of rain. Huh!
I had to stop myself taking another pot of morning medications, I’d got them out and was opening the lid when luckily noticed the empty one near the laptop that I had already taken.
Phew, a close call that one was.
So glad I didn’t take them.
I felt sure that last night I thought of two things to do in Sherwood this morning. What was the other thing…er… get the letter sent off and… erm, er, argh gorrit! Get the stuff sorted to take to the Nottingham Hospice Charity shop. I’ll do it now, excuse me…
Got them sorted into a carrier bag, and added the letter to post.
Nearly 0600hrs now, I hope the rain holds off until I get me bits done.
I’ve got an awful lot of paperwork to sort through and file away too – and those windows… oh dear, I’m not doing them in the rain. When I get back from the walk to and from Sherwood, I’ll try to get the paperwork sorted at least. Mind you, having gotten up so early, I’d better not sit down for fear of nodding off! Hehe!
Had a scrub-up and readied the rubbish for the chute on the way down. Feeling a bit tired now.
Out into fresh air, the wind was not too bad and no rain yet either.
Up to the top of the hill opposite the flats and right down to Mansfield Road, out of Woodthorpe Grange Park, over the hill into Sherwood and down to the Nottingham Hospice Charity Shop.
Not many folks about yet.
The lady in the Hospice shop always remembers people’s names, she greeted me cheerfully telling me I was out early. Gave her the bag and had a quick chinwag.
Then over the pelican crossing and down to the independent supermarket where the Post Office is now based. Joined the queue, which I didn’t expect with so few people about outside.
When my turn came, I handed the letter through the window slot, and he passed it back to me telling me to place it on the scale on my side – so I did.
It cost £1.44 and I paid the chap and left. It only had one sheet of airmail paper in it, and it was in a lightweight airmail envelope. I dreaded to think what it is going to cost me next time when I send him some photographs?
Back up the hill and down to the park, up the path and right down the steep hilly gravel track to the flats.
Still very few folks about.
When I was limping up the pedestrian path, looking at the few dogs having fun, the wind suddenly got up and blew worse as I continued om the journey.
By the time I reached the flats, I could hardly stay upright – oh dear! Still, the rain hadn’t arrived yet.
One in the flat and went to make a cuppa, took out the hearing aids and placed them safely in Auntie Kath’s pot, I could hear the winds without them in!
One of the girls on the TFZ site suggested my storing the hearing aids in Kathleen’s porcelain pot she had left me, saying it would remind me of her every time I use it. She was right. Thanks whoever it was. So sad when the memory goes innit? Humph!
Got the laptop going, and while Coreldraw 8 loaded (It takes a few minute to load), I browsed the TV paper. There is a lot on I’d like to watch, but ought to be sorting the paperwork really – mind you, when I sit down I’ll fall asleep I expect anyway.
I’d better get me din-dins cooking. After much changing of my mind, I’m making BBQ Pork sausages, with two small potato cakes, and having them with some sauce and Irish batch bread.
The rain started, the winds blew.
As for the falling asleep, that didn’t occur at all. The fretting about everything began in my mind again.
BJ rang to see if wanted to go to Papplewick Pumping Station tomorrow. For the first time, I had to thank him but decline. The reasons being I was feeling pitiably sorry for myself again, the heavy rains that were forecast and the confused state of my mind.
TV viewing even was not easy, I wanted to watch the boxing, but kept jumping over between that and Law & Order, and yet not taking either in as the mind raced worrying about everything imaginable. I’ve rarely felt like this before and would sooner the angina arthritis etc. was giving me bother as opposed to my mind. No inner peace at all. T’was gone midnight before I nodded off and the dreams seemed to start immediately – horrendous ones too.
Around 0300hrs or so, I had to attend the porcelain and found a mess to clean up thanks to Little Inchy. Had to change the night attire, more washing to do.
I think I dreamt I was unemployed again and seeking work – all frustration.
I stirred around 0500hrs, after a night of more waking than sleeping and reflected on the disturbing dreams I had earlier.
I read somewhere that: Humans are constantly making evaluations about the direction of movement in time of systems perceived as relevant, concerning whether things are moving to the better or, the worse.
Whoever wrote this was dead right in my case this morning! I felt rotten, pessimistic, miserable and an overwhelming feeling that something so disastrous was going to take place, it would destroy my hopes and incapacitate my mind? Wicked emotions.
I glanced down at the mini Otterman at the side of my 1959 imitation leather armchair.
The items on it made me think of how life is nowadays for Nottingham’s Puerile Pensioner.
A book about WW2 memories of a sniper, and a Bygones newspaper, all stuff from the past. Which is where I belong I suppose.
Anne Gyna and Roger Reflux Valve have never given me so much of a bashing at the same time before. This means I cannot do any cleaning in the flat, and that really annoys me and gets me down. How long before they give me a break? No sleep as such for a couple of nights now. I didn’t go out yesterday and feel ashamed of my lack of enthusiasm for anything. Still, I did get an idea for a funny post when I was on the throne earlier this morning. That actually cheered me up for a few minutes, and then I went into the kitchen and saw the state of it and the need for cleaning, and felt down again. I must not give up, though, and try to do what I can later, else it will get too much to do when I do feel better?
That’s all my grumbling and griping done now, sorry about that.
Made a cuppa and took the medications. Laptop on and finished Fridays dairy off.
Made another cuppa and took an extra 30g Codeine phosphate.
Started and finally finished the Lavatory post. It might get some laughs, I hope, cause it’s all true!
Had a jolly good bath and spit and polished up myself.
Off out, and met Norman at the lift, Norman is the other 93-year-old who I went to Sainsburys with the other week. We had a good natter and caught the L8 bus into Sherwood, where Norman caught a bus to Arnold, and I crossed the road and got on one into town. A grand chap is Norman.
When I got into town, I dropped off the bus at Victoria Centre.The new
The new American Diner was not doing very well trade-wise, lots of empty chairs and tables outside. Mind you, the Big Issue seller woman would have driven any customers away with the poor thing repeating “Big Issue, Big Issue, please!” in her accent that made it sound like “Big Tissue Tease!” I felt a bit sorry for her and slipped her a quid as I passed by into the Mall.
I limped up the escalators to the top floor and made my way to the hardware stall, and took this photographicalisation of some layabout shoplifters having a rest in the ‘S’ seats.
I proceeded in an Easterly direction and arrived at the Market and commenced to have a wander around the stalls.
I got three bars of their Carbolic soap at 50p (72cents) each.
Then as I making my way to the other end of the Mall, approaching the escalator to go down a floor, the damned back started to stab at me and the Anne Gyna joined in – Humph and Tsk!
As I got near to Tesco, I called in the HMV shop – a terrible mistake and I knew it at the time that my bank balance was going to get a battering! I dare not say how much I spent, but I only went in to see if had any Hetty Wainthrope DVD’s in, but they didn’t; Unfortunately for me they did have a full James Bond compilation and a Jonathan Creek episode I’d not seen before, and … Oh, shame on me, spending again!
I limped painfully to Tesco and spent, even more, Lamb Hotpots, Seaweed snacks, Potato Cakes, Bread thins and even had to buy a bag to carry them home in.
Getting very weary now, and the bothersome pains were not getting any better.some
I walked through Trinity Square and took a photo to post on Facebook, of some Bling for the TFZ lads, and one of the pigeons I slipped clandestinely some seed to.
Hobbled and struggled to the bus stop, and caught one back to Winchester Street.
I took a photograph through the bus windows of the Nottinghomians milling about.
The reflection from the glass made it look a little odd I thought.
We were soon on the hill where I dropped off and managed to cross the road without any undue hiatus this time.
At least, my spirits had risen a little as I made it back safely to the flats and visited the lavatory!
Made a cup of tea and put the things away. While doing this the wind suddenly got up, so much so I feared the block of flats might tumble over.
A light mix of snow and rain came later, but soon dissipated, the wind remaining, but not so bad as an hour earlier.
I started to make the meal.
Laptop on and started this diary update.
Feeling tired, weary and in pain with the Anne Gyna and lower back. But avoided feeling sorry for myself for once, and started singing to myself as I proceeded to check the fodder cooking regularly.
Put the lamb hot-pot into the oven for a while, then added the chopped vegetables, leeks, carrots, onions, and swede. Sprayed some oil on them, and added them to the oven tray with the hot-pot. A little bit of advice for other Senior Citizens attempting to prepare vegetables for roasting. When chopping them up nice and small so they cook quicker, please make sure the chopping tray is firmly secured on a flat surface. This may prevent the whole shebang tipping over onto the kitchen floor, a lot of very painful cleaning up, much bad language and pissing yourself off.
Then I chopped some more veg and put some garden peas in the saucepan on a low light.
While the cooking was progressing, I checked the TV paper and found something I fancied watching.
Got the fodder out and added some beetroot, three small slices of brown Irish Soda Bread slices, a strawberry dessert, and would have added a mini pot of ice-cream, but I forgot about it and left it on the side when I took it our of the freezer, where I found it hours later, picked it up and the liquid poured out – right onto the spot where all the chopped veg fell earlier.
Rated this effort at 9.25/10.
Onto the tray, into the front room, TV on, settled in the 1959 damaged imitation leather armchair and started to watch Top Gear.
Ate the food, fell asleep and woke up with the tray and the remnants of its contents on the floor in front of me, bread crumbs, bits of veg residue, gravy and cutlery spread out on the carpet, the Ottoman cover, and my pajamas!
At this point, I lost the little buoyancy I’d accrued during the day, and quickly turned into a self-pitying pathetic, depressed old man, my spirits sank with all the many Whoopsiedangleplops I’d suffered in the last few hours. Of course, all the bending to repeatedly to clean them up had now caused Anne Gyna to give me more hassle. Breathing is painful and not easy.
This may have had something to do with the fact that I could not get to sleep again? I watched all the programs until I eventually nodded off three hours or so later.
I woke up around 0200hrs, Oh great, then the Reflux Valve started. No more sleep, much more self-pitying and the like until I decided to force myself to get up around 0500 hrs.
Tsk! Right fed-up I am now. Still, I can have a carbolicalisationing session in the bath later. Hehe!
I woke up several times during the night and nodded off again. Eventually getting up around 0445 hrs.
To the WC and boy did the haemorrhoids bleed, passing was painful.Made a cuppa and took my medications. Then checked the calendar diary to make sure I knew what I was to do today. Not that I’ll remember later mind, so I wrote the jobs down.
Walk into Sherwood and catch a bus to the City Hospital and the GUM clinic for a check-up on ‘Little Inchy’.
Chemists to collect the trunkload of prescriptions. Hehe!
Back to the flat for 1400 hrs. Joel from Occupational Therapy is calling to see me some time after 1400hrs; I have to sign some paperwork?
If time; Get some potato cakes.
Going to be hard sorting out the timing to get everything in order thinks. Then I got Blogger going and a Big – I say Big… Whoopsiedangleplop occurred!
I opened the Sunday diary to finish it off and managed to lose the whole post! Not sure how I did it, but I couldn’t get it back!
Realising I had lost all that work, and couldn’t remember what it was I’d written or had happened annoyed me somewhat!
So I set about doing this diary and decided to recall what I could of the dream I wrote about yesterday.
Duncan seemed to have enjoyed himself so much on his nocturnal visitation to the flat.
Luckily the graphicalisation of the dream I’d done was still available on my hard drive and reminded me of some bits of it.
His heaving me out of the flat, he repeated for hours and hours.
I wish I could remember more of this dream. In the dairy for Sunday that I lost, I’m sure I did eight paragraphs or more about it.
Something humourous happened as he left me in his car, but can I remember what now? No!
Tsk!
It took me many hours getting that diary for Sunday how I wanted it too; Very vexatious.
I still had the photograph on my drive, of the weather viewed from the kitchen window. I recall being pleased watching the dogs with their wagging tails walking their owners out in the snow, and hoping when I had to go out this morning that the snow will have cleared a bit.
I set about doing this diary but found many things awkward to get right.
Now I remember why I went on to using WordPress. But that will not let me use the old editor, and I can’t get used to using their new one. Tsk! Last night’s meal was superlative. Potato cakes, Anya potatoes, crisp chips, beetroot with orange peel, carrots, garden peas and Smoked kippers in vegetable sauce with Irish Sour bread. Followed by a mini pot of ice-cream. Had to give this one another high score rating, 9.55/10.
Nearly 0600 hrs now. I must get a good wash and treat ‘Little Inchy’ in readiness for my visit to the GUM clinic at the City Hospital.
Made sure I’d got my camera, bus-pass, crossword book, pen, cash and mobile phone in my pockets.
I got the three bins emptied and bagged up ready to take to the chute on my way out later.
I feel confident I will not forget this task. (Ahem).
Toyed with trying to get into the old editor on WordPress, and attempted to get back the lost Blogger Diary – had no luck with either!
Got a wash and brushed up, tended to the haemorrhoids that were bleeding rather a lot this time.
Little Inchy? No blood whatsoever! Hurrah!
Then got me looking presentable, and checked on the internet for the times of the 40 bus. 1005hrs and 1035hrs it said.
So I got a move on (of sorts) and down and walked to the bus stop in plenty of time for the 1005hrs bus. Arrived at the stop by 0950hrs.
Stood there for 35 minutes before a bus came.
Had I read it wrong?
Had the timetable changed?
Still, it gave time to realise I’d forgotten to take the rubbish bags to the chute. Tsk!
Eventually, it arrived, and I was at the hospital shortly and in plenty of time for my appointment.
Booked in, and got on with doing the crossword book.
They called me in for my eleven o’clock appointment at 1135hrs!
The lady and the student who took me into a room said, after looking up my paperwork and computer read-out; “We’d better get a doctor to see you, hang on here and we’ll get one for you”?
After a while, a doctor came in and asked me all about my problem again.
He then took me into a treatment room and had a ponder at ‘Little Inchy’. He was kind enough not to laugh.
After a few minutes, he advised me to carry on with the same treatment.
So, out to catch the bus into Carrington to get me the large bag of medications.
The coat zip got stuck as I went out into the cold.
Double Tsk!
I called into the launderette next door to the chemist and had a chinwag with Grizelda.
She took a hammer to the coat zip and got it freed for me. Bless her. I gave her some nibbles and my thanks.
Out to the Lidl store and bought some cheese cobs and pots of porridge.
Then out to the bus stop and waited.
And waited.
Got on the bus into Sherwood and walked up and over the hill and into and up through Woodthorpe Grange Park, as I’d just missed the L9 up to the flats.
A lady was walking her dog, short-legged thing with long hair. I fell in love with it immediately. We had a natter and I continued up the hill. As I did so, I spotted small areas of unmelted snow on the grass.
I imagine it must have fallen off some dog or dogs as the played around, but it looked odd to me like.
I got in and visited the WC, put the package of medications to one side for sorting later. Made a cup of tea and transferred this diary from Blogger back to WordPress.
Although I dislike this editor now on WordPress, I’d had enough of trying the blogger again with it being so hard to customise posts on it.
The Occupational Therapist, Joel arrived. Got me to sign a form declaring any decorative or structural damage during the installation of the Wet room shower, I will pay for replacements and structural or decorative damage caused during the installation. Oh dear!
He told me to expect the work to be started in about six months.
I got the laptop on and updated this diary.
Then I rotated the medications into their storage drawer.
At this point, I had what must have been one of shortest depression attacks ever known?
The ennui came over me as I sat down to have a cup of tea, and remembered I had not taken my rubbish bags to the chute yet.
Why this should affect me like it did I don’t know.
I took the bags to the chute and found myself singing to myself on the way.
Odd how you can confuse yourself without trying innit?
The fodder was prepared.
Another rather fine feed this one was.
I put on the goggle-box and dosed afew times, turned the TV off and drifted into the land of nod.
Dreams like never before, none of them made the least sense or seemed to have any connection with life as it is, or was? I was in a coffin with an old Atari ST computer at one time, winding up a generator for light and heat? Then I was picking maggots out my rotting leg and eating them?
Woke as fully depressed as I have for years now – self-pity and fear seemed to have taken over my psyche this morning.
Add to that the bleeding from the rear and Little Inchy had started again.
Anne Gina was giving me far too much jip. So much, I took my last under-tongue lozenge.
The ulcer joined in attacking me with venom. Only Arthur Itis was going easy on me this morning.
Stiffness and aching in the elbow and hand joints were bothersome, something new this.
I feel so different to yesterday morning when I woke with hope and faith things were going better for me… Foolish me!
I made a cuppa and took my medications.
Unable it seems to free myself from the worry and fretting over the turn of events with the FraserBrown demands, and how to get things sorted and help.
I finished the last diary and started this one.
Feeling morose and not being able to shake it off.
To be honest, I’m a bag of nerves. Twitching, fretting and nervous about and at, anything today.
I’ll try to have a bath later. Sort out blood matted Little Inchy and the haemorrhoids. Try to shake me out of this mean spirit level draining lethargy.
I did some Facebooking on the Troll Free Zone. May nice comments received from the members. I’m afraid I felt a little less enthusiastic than normal. Due to the solicitors demands, questionnaires and jobs I have to sort and get done on the old house – no idea what or how to do any of them, can’t hear folk on the phone, or understand some of the questions from the buyers solicitor. Only Steve Age UK can help, and he won’t get my email requesting support until Monday, if then. I’m depressed.
Had a good soak in the bath and readied the washing for the laundry room.
Took the rubbish bags and threw them down the chute on the way.
Did my crossword book while I was waiting in the lobby.
Went in to swap the clothes into the dryer.
A bloke kept hauling some stuff outside from one of the flats.
The frail lady told me later; they were going to live in Scotland.
When the dryer got going, I departed and had a walk up through Woodthorpe Park and down into Sherwood, to get some bits of fodder.
Not that I needed any, but when I feel down, I tend to shop a lot!
The trees on the way up the path looked picturesque despite their lack of colour.
Once at the top of the hill and part way down the footpath, I took a photo of the landscape to the North, across the field.
The shadows produced a rather naughty looking shape on the grass. Hehe!
There were not many doggies being walked today.
Mind you, it was very cold despite the sunshine.
Called in the Co-op store and bought a paper, Meat and potato pie and some milk.
Made my way back up and over the hill and down to the gates into the Woodthorpe Grange Park and up the footpath.
A lot more people in the park on y way back.
There was a pavement cyclist; well, footpath cyclist zooming down the incline as I walked up it.
Swine!
Plenty more dogs with their tails wagging for me to enjoy watching.
To the top and right down the gravel footpath and back to the apartments.
The frail lady from the 11th floor was having a sit in the foyer.
I gave her some nibbles and asked her to smile for her photo bless her.
The dryer finished shortly, and I got me clothes folded in the bag.
As I started up the lift to the flat, the current frustrations came back into my mind, and gloom descended on me.
Got some nosh ready. Didn’t feel much like eating though, so only had a little meal.
Put the togs away, and washed the pots.
I felt like a cloud was following me around.
Ordered some drawers from Wilko to be delivered Tuesday, and some stuff from Morrison’s for tomorrow.
Fell asleep woke up took my medications and flaked out again.
Glad to give my mind a rest from the fretting while I slept.
Feeling drained and haggard each of the many times I sprang awake.
