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Dad had fallen after attempting to change a lightbulb & I did not deal with it as well as I'd wanted me to do.
Finally after trying to help him I got him an ambulance.
With him in hospital two friends helped calm down my anxiety, a little.
It transpires he had a broken left hip and required an operation – I knew he wouldn't like that 'coz it'll slow him down a lot. I am hoping I can do something bout the two bulbs: the one in the kitchen is an old fitting, think it's bakelite. But the one in the loft is also off and, if i have to turn the boiler back on, I'll need the light.
Sheesh, I am so thankful he had chosen to do the kitchen first.
The fellow finally rang back from barclays, at about six in the evening: so that issues sorted and dad's isa is safe, for now.
It's ironic, I only discovered that Barclay's intended to close his ISA because I'd accidentally opened a letter that had been addressed to me.
I had told Tony bout it and he was disgusted with the way banks treat established customers.
At 7:50 a.m. as I'd appreciated the warmth of the radiator the phone had rung, for a long while. Thinking it might have been about Dad I'd risen and answered the phone...
"This is Steven from Amazon."
Almost half an hour later I'd learned that someone in Reading had made an account in my Dad's name. Having had an ex-fiancee report me to the dole for working while unemployed, whilst I was working, I'd quickly figured out what the issue was. I had suggested the police to the fellow, as it seemed to be an issue of fraud, but the fellow kept trying to suggest it was an issue with the sites I'd been visiting.
He had been intrigued when I'd mentioned the name of my ex, who has bothered me for quite awhile now, with the occasional phone-call, or-so.
Eventually he'd decided to end the call, having stressed me out to hell and back; and learning that neither my Father nor I had an account with Amazon.
Having risen and found myself properly awake, I'd listened to the fierce wind deciding whether to put the grey recycling bin out or not.
Opening the curtains I'd looked up and down the road to ascertain whether other had put their bin out, or not. There had been one or two in my sight, but with the wind as it was, I''d decided to wait awhile.
Patience not being one of my virtues, I'd gone to Wirral Borough Councils website and the bit regarding wheelie-bins.
I had read, 'Monday 21 February – Bins update: Due to the high winds from storm Franklin, Biffa have suspended collections for today and will catch up throughout the week. Please put your bin out by 7am tomorrow.'
Time had passed and coffee had got cold, as I'd tried to get back into my audio story, playing on a Dell Inspiron with no access to the internet. It's acting as a replacement for the XP Dell with the faulty screen that had finally died after I'd fallen again.
Then, the phone had rung. It had been Greg, a junior doctor assisting my Dad. It had transpired that during Dad's operation a problem with his heart was discovered and they sought my permission to put him on appropriate medication.
Needless to say, that'd been another difficult phone-conversation.
Recalling the statement on Wirral Borough Councils website, I brought the grey bin in on Monday, then put out again Tuesday morning. The wind did not knock it over, but it had fallen at 9:10 when I'd opened the living room curtain. A tad itked, I got dressed, way earlier than I normally would to get the bin up, for the refuse collectors.
I'd been surprised at how light it had been, so once upright, I'd lifted the lid and found that it was empty.
That had surprised me, as the refuse collectors rarely call that early. I'm quite sure some residents will have been missed out.
Meanwhile I'm sitting in, waiting on the phone, listening on news of my Dad...