Shared hurt

 I went because we enjoyed spending time with them, and he is now a widower like me.  She died in the same hospital at about the same time as Gloria.  Also, Gloria would have wanted to go to to her service, so partly it was in Gloria's honour.

It was a nice service, and pointed out a couple of things that will help in the planning that I'm doing for Gloria's service.

I was there early, and spoke to their son for a while before things got started.  After the service, I was delayed a while talking to other people, who will also want to be at Gloria's service, and so was among the last to leave.  I ran into their son again in the parking lot, and he was talking a bit more about his Mum's time in hospital, and expressed some bitterness about the problems and discomforts that his Mum, and his Dad, had faced in the hospital.  So, in return, I told him about some of the problems we had faced with Gloria's stay in the hospital.  It wasn't anybody's fault (unless it was CoVID's fault, for putting extra strain on the system), but it made the situation that much harder.

He said that me telling him that helped; to know they were not alone, that they were not the only ones who had difficulties.

Him saying that helps me, that our hurt helped him, and possibly others.

(Is that part of why I'm writing this?)

Everything you need to know about grief counselling, you can learn from Holly Cole

 Holly Cole sings a song called just "Cry," or, in the longer version, "Cry (If You Want To)."  You can find it on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TJkxf4qPRI.  If you want to go into grief counselling, listen to that song.  And study it.

No, I'm not saying that grief counselling is that easy, but a lot of the basics are there.  For example, right off the top it starts:

Cry if you want to
I won't tell you not to

That's called validation.  In a kind of negative way, maybe, but validation.  When someone has suffered a loss, grief is normal.  Crying is normal.  We don't like it, of course.  We are pack animals.  If any member of the pack is injured, in any way, that weakens the pack as a whole, and raises our level of risk as individuals.  So, even when the injury is grief, we don't like it, and automatically try to reduce it, and, for a lot of us, our first response is just "don't cry."  But that, of course, is just treating the symptom, rather than the underlying cause.

So, lets go back to Hippocrates.  "First, do no harm."  Telling someone not to cry is, basically, telling them that they *haven't* suffered an injury, and invalidates their grief.  Which can lead to all kinds of other problems.  So, let 'em "cry if they want to."

Those lines, in the song, are immediately followed by:

I won't try to cheer you up

We often feel that it's a good idea to distract the bereaved from their grief.  When you have suffered a loss, you are going to grieve.  If you don't grieve now, you are going to grieve later.  When my sister died (she was twelve, I was fifteen) in November, my parents decided that it would be a good idea for the family to drive to California for a kind of vacation, so that we wouldn't be going through Christmas without my sister.  The trip was interesting, but, of course, that just made it hard the *next* year when we went through Christmas without my sister.

It is possible that the bereaved gets stuck in grief, and does need distraction, in order to move on.  But grief takes it's own time.  It's always nice to do nice things for people, and it's important for the bereaved to continue to engage in various normal and even pleasant activities.  But you don't need to force them to cheer up.

Later in the song there are the lines:

I won't make fun of you
I won't tell any one
I won't analyze what you do or you should have done

There are a couple of points here, in addition to the validation implied in "I won't make fun of you."  If a griever decides to tell you how they are feeling, they may feel that that expression is for you alone.  People feel differently about privacy, and that is particularly true of grief.  I'm doing this on a blog.  I know of other bereaved who are so concerned about privacy that they are concerned about the search functions, available on every news site, and even more generally, that will allow people to find out the bare facts of their story.  When I mentioned that I was doing this blog to a grief counsellor, her immediate reaction was to *ask permission* to read it.  That person is a professional.  Many people would simply assume that I'm doing this on a blog, blogs are accessible, therefore it's OK to go read it.  But a real counsellor knows that a) grieving people don't always have the best judgment, and b) some people don't realize how public and accessible the Internet actually is.  (Just because *you* don't know how to find it doesn't mean it can't be found: security by obscurity is, and always has been, a myth and a delusion.)

Then there's what "should" have been done.  We want to help.  We want to fix.  And the easiest way to "help" (or so it often appears to us) is to advise.  There are two problems with this.  The first is that giving advice implies that we are smarter or more knowledgeable than the bereaved.  Which is a slightly more convoluted way of invalidating them.  They did somethig wrong.  This is actually their fault.  The second point is that the advice doesn't help fix something that is already done.  Not helpful.

Towards the end, the song says:

Well it's empty and it's ugly and it's terribly sad
I can't feel what you feel but I know it feels bad
I know that it's real and it makes you so mad
You could cry.

Once again, grief is real.  It may not be a visible or physical injury, but it is damage just the same.  Grievers need to feel it and possibly express it.

And:

I'll just be here if you want me
To be
Near you

Sometimes the brereaved do need company, and nothing more.

From Job 2: 11-13:

Now when Job's three friends heard of all these troubles that had come upon him, each of them set out from his home--Eliaphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite.  They met together to go and console and comfort him.  When they saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him, and they raised their vocies and wept aloud; they tore their robes and threw dust in the air upon their heads.  They sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.

If Job's friends had stopped there, then we wouldn't have the phrase "Job's comforters."  But no, they had to go on and try to give advice, and they fully deserve Job's nice turn in sarcasm when he answers them, "I have heard many such things; miserable comforters are you all.  Have windy words no limit?  Or what provokes you that you keep on talking."

Review of Dyson v15 Detect Total Clean

Well, I guess I did go shopping ...

I've got Air Miles.  I don't find much use for the, so, a few years ago, when they threatened to take them away unless you used them, I bought a Dyson 9 "stick" vacuum cleaner.  We liked the strongsuction, and the portability.  (The old Kenmore is great, but it is a bit of a chore to lug around.)

Then it started going weird, and the thing was "pulsing" when it worked, and, even though I took it apart and cleaned it, it still pulsed.  So, it went in the move.

But the new place, with bare floors, seems to need a lot of vacuuming.  A Swiffer seems OK, but I'm still not totally used to it.  And I've still got Air Miles points, and so I checked, and they still carry Dysons, and there are now new Dysons.  So I ordered a Dyson v15 Detect "stick" vacuum.  It came within six days, which was faster than the Website promised.  It was the "Total Clean" package, which doesn't have some of the accessories that Dyson talks about in their videos and manuals about the v15.

It's a bit heavier than I remember the 9 being, and definitely bulkier.  But it's still portable, and it's still a good vacuum in terms of strong suction.

This time I read *everything*, *and* looked at all the videos online, before I started.  That was probably overkill, but I still wonder if there was something I did wrong with the 9.  The videos aren't that helpful, and neither are the manuals and other documentation.  For example, it does tell you to fully charge the battery before using the vacuum.  But the pamphlets aren't very clear about the process (other than telling you that you can charge the battery either installed or out of the vacuum), or how to tell if the battery is fully charged (the blue lights that blink while it is charging go out when it is fully charged [which does mean that a dead battery looks exactly the same as a fully charged battery until you try either to either use it or charge it]), or how long it takes to charge (four and a half hours, and it took a *lot* of searching through both the documentation *and* the Dyson Website *and* looking at a lot of the Dyson videos to find *that* out).

The "detect" part of the v15 detect name probably comes from the fact that they promise you that the vacuum cleaner is counting dust particles as it vacuums them up.  As a security maven and management consultant I know the mantra that "what you can't measure you can't manage," but this metric probably comes under the heading of "interesting but probably not useful."  The computerization that goes into this feature contributes to the complexity of using this vacuum cleaner.  It hasn't just got an on/off switch: it has a menu of choices you can make.  To boost the power you don't just pull the trigger harder, like you did on the 9, you have to go through the menu and select "Boost."  You also get to choose features like the menu language, and whether or not the vacuum clearner gives you notifications.  (I still can't tell whether it'll tell me when I've got new email.)

I was impressed by how much dust I dumped out of it at the end of "once around the apartment."  And the new unloading mechanism does make it easier to empty.

I tried out the new "laser" cleaning bar head.  It probably is a laser (LEDs are cheap and use little power), but it's basically a bright light shining in front of the power brush head at a low angle.  This means that any large particles do show up, mostly by the shadows that they throw.  It does help you to notice some larger dust particles on the floor.  But it also means that you are mostly trying to vacuum in dim light so that you can see those shadows.  And there are some things that you see in bright light, that the "laser" isn't pointing out to you.  (For example, dark, flat objects like pieces of dead leaves.)

The laser also points out that the laser power head is too tall to go after large crumbs under stove fronts and fridges.  And that, in fact, in the "Total Clean" package, at least, Dyson doesn't provide a low, flat suction head for going under things that are close to the ground.  And, of course, Dyson wands and heads are not compatible with standard vacujm hoses, pipes, and heads, so that the one I have for the Kenmore are of absolutely no use with the Dyson.  (There is a "light pipe" crevice tool, but that's an extra $80.  At some point I also came across an adapter so that you can use other vacuum wands and heads, but the search function on the Dyson Website is abysmal, and I can't find it again.)

The bulk of the v15 also makes it relatively impractical for "dusting" type activities.  the cylindrical design contributes to the ease of the new unloading mechanism, but it means you've got a wide, flat front very close to any dusting attachment that you use.  I'm also a little concerned about the design of the bin with regard to angling the vacuum up.  (That seems to tip dirt into an area of the bin that they warn you not to get dirt in.)  (Dyson also wants to sell you an extra adapter to vacuum in high places.)  In addition, the bi-directional exhaust at the back/top of the vacuum unit makes it difficult to use for dusting.  Be extremely careful of the vacuum around desks or other areas with loose papers: the v15 makes an excellent leaf blower, in two directions at once.

However, I haven't used it much yet, so overall usability will have to wait ...

Shopping

 Trying to be a responsible Old Person, who has already had A Fall, and needs to keep relatives informed of where I am and what I'm doing, I told K&L, "I'm going shopping. Why am I going shopping? I hate shopping. Is it comfortingly familiar? Anyway, I'm going to Save-On and maybe Walmart."

And Number One Daughter wrote back:

I am going to propose that you actually love shopping. And that all this time you have either told yourself or been told that “you” hate shopping. If you actually want to break the cycle, start making a shopping list and don’t let yourself go shopping until you have added to the list for at least 3-4 days instead of going when you think of something. Or pick 2 days a week that are shopping and errand days.

Or maybe work on acknowledging that you actually love shopping. 

Or figure out what shopping is for you (an escape from other tasks?). Kind of like scrolling social for us? In other words mostly a waste of time? 😔

If familiarity is what you are looking for, then maybe curl up and dive in to an old classic book?

Or just shop without guilt or explanation (or even the need to report). Cause you can.

Which was kind.  (Particularly that last.)

It was also useful.  I did, immediately, start to do the shopping list thing.  I'd had one before, and I'm still trying to work out exactly what the best system is.  But having a list, of any type, forces you to be more aware of shopping, and what you are shopping for, and why, and whether this purchase is really necessary.  I'm not quite finished December accounts, yet, but I notice that, yes, I was doing a lot of shopping, in the days immediately after Gloria died, and, while few of the purchases were completely unnecessary, it seems obvious that I was using shopping, as much as I hate it, as an escape from something worse.  (Sitting around and thinking about missing Gloria?)

Some types of shopping are comforting and familiar.  When I finally found the (one!) Safeway around here, it was almost like an old friend.  I do have to be very careful these days in grocery stores.  I'm starting to get the hand of not buying things that Gloria wanted or needed, but I'm still not used to "buying for one," and I've already had more food than I'm comfortable with go into the compost.  I also need to guard against stress eating.

And, yes, even other types of shopping, because they provide some level of familiarity, are comforting in this time when nothing is familiar: no wife, no friend, no schedule, no home, no home turf.  So I'll have to watch that.  (A few days ago I was reminded that, yes, I *do* hate shopping, and why.  I was looking for a loofah.  I went to *SIX* different dollar stores, and not one of them had one ...)

Anyway, starting to have a shopping list really reined in the shopping.  I'm even starting to be more aware reading the flyers, because I have to think, before I put something on the shopping list, of whether I actually have room in the fridge or freezer for it.  (This week has been difficult, with bloodwork, and fasting, and fasting for the colonoscopy, etc, but I should get back into going to Big Bazaar and checking the "dead vegetables" shelf, and that's what's for dinner.)

Accounting for change

 Right, I'm biting the bullet, and doing the December accounts.

This was, of course, the last month Gloria was alive.  It's also the weeks that she was in hospital.  Even just laying out the slips, I can see the meals I had in the hospital cafeteria, the junk food I was grabbing while running back and forth the the hospital, the extra gas I was buying when I started running back and forth to Delta, and the first signs of all the changes; to rent, to phone service, to different grocery stores, to a new pharmacy; occasioned by the move.  (I'll also have to keep an eye out for the Walmart MasterCard that probably shows up for the first time late in this month.)

(All the changes to accounts that the bank did probably don't show up until January, but I'll have to watch for them, too.)

After I've done this, I'll probably go through January, too, before I start on the taxes.  That'll be a whole new set of changes to the accounts.

Of course, maybe I'm doing this blog to avoid doing the accounts themselves.

As late as December 12th I was still buying things specifically because Gloria would want them ...

December 17th K&L and I were eating Subway takeout in the solarium on deathwatch ...

Anti-anti

 There is a big banner across the bumper of one of the trucks in the "Freedom Convoy" that says it all: NO MORE MANDATES!

These protests are not *for* anything, they are just against anyone having any right to tell anyone what to do.  They are saying that the government (or police, or authorities or doctors or anyone who knows more than I do because they have been researching, studying, or even paying attention while I'm out down at the pub) should make no more mandates.  For anyone.  About anything.  I have my rights!  I have my freedoms!  Nobody can tell me what to do about anything!

(The fact that you only have rights and freedoms because a lot of people put aside their own rights, freedoms, and privileges to work for yours doesn't even occur to them.)

Sorry, this is not a new idea.  I strongly suspect that the reason most people don't believe in God these days is because they don't want anyone (including God) to have any excuse to tell them what to do.  This is not advanced, mature thinking.  This is kiddie stuff.  "You aren't the boss of me!"

The fact that the convoy organizers can't get the money put up on GoFundMe should not surprise anyone.  GoFundMe wants to know what is going to be done with the money.  The organizers don't want anyone telling them what they can do with the money.  Including themselves.

There are so many of these lame protests these days that I'm very tempted to start protesting protesters  If that sounds very meta, too bad.  You can't tell me what not to do!

Sleep, again

Sleep is still, somewhat, an issue.  It probably will be for a while.

My doctor suggesteed I try some of Gloria's sleeping pills.  I hadn't turned them back in at the pharmacy, and, in fact, had tried them out.  I'd taken, on twwo different occasions, half a pill.  They didn't seem to do anything except leave a bad taste in my mouth.  (Literally.)  So, I tried a full pill.  No more sleep, and the bad taste was even stronger.  (All the next day, drinking water tasted weird.)

She also suggested that I try Gloria's antidepressant, which I also hadn't turned back in.  This particular antidepressant is particularly used for treating insomnia in depression.  So, I've tried a low dose, and it does seem to work.  Sort of.  I'm still not getting even eight hours a night, but, instead of getting one night of four hours and then one night of seven hours, I'm getting seven or seven and a half hours of sleep pretty much every night.

My doctor had said that, if the low dose (50) didn't work, to try a higher dose (100).  I might try that option, but I may leave it a few days.  For one thing, I'm possibly seeing some side effects.  It's a bit early to say that they are definitely related to the antidepressant, but I'm getting a bit of a bad taste in my mouth (not as strong as with the sleeping pill, but very similar taste), and I'm also feeling restless, and, at the same time, rather lethargic.  I had some time, in between two Zoom meetings yesterday, and could have finished off the last month of accounts from 2021.  Instead I watched three movies.  (All on high speed.)  (On the other hand, at least I didn't fall asleep or doze off during any of them.)  (I also snacked a lot, and I'll definitely have to watch that.)

But, it could simply have been an off day.  I'm bereaved, I'm possibly depressed, I may simply have had an off day.  On the other hand, the next two days, coming up, are not going to be stellar.  Today I am fasting, first because I have to walk up to the lab and do bloodwork, and later because, immediately after that, I have to take the first of two doses of pico salax for my colonoscopy tomorrow (which means I shouldn't be more than fifty feet from a toilet for the rest of the day).  And then, of course, Friday is the colonoscopy.  And then Saturday is going to be busy as well, if the sedation from the colonoscopy allows ...

Reading

 I'm not reading.

This is really strange.  I *always* read.  I love books.  I love libraries.  One of the most painful parts of the move was having to get rid of about $80,000 worth of books.  (They went to thrift stores, a second hand bookstore, and a library.)  When I was doing reviews, Gloria was pretty firm that I couldn't keep *all* of them.  When I was teaching, Gloria was always pushing for more room in the suitcase for more shirts: I was always pushing for more room for more books to review.  I read for pleasure.  I read to learn things for work.  I read to learn things because "life long learning."  I read on the bus.  If I'm ever faced with the possibility that I might have to wait, somewhere, for something, I take a book to read while waiting.

I'm reading some.  I've started a big, thick book, but I'm not even a quarter of the way into it yet.  I read the paper, but not like Gloria read it.  (That was her news job.  Mine was checking the news from CBC, BBC, NPR, and other international sources, via Twitter.  I'm not reading the news on Twitter, either.)  Gloria would take a couple of hours to read the whole thing.  I'm reading headlines, and maybe a couple of paragraphs if the headline catches my interest.  In the past month, I doubt I've read more than half a dozen articles in full.

I'm working.  I'm working a lot.  Not very effectively, maybe, and I'm not as productive as I would be, or possibly should be (and, hopefully, will be again, at some point in the future).  So why not reading?

Is this a symptom of grief or depression, like loss of libido?  Is is that I'm grieving, and uninterested in other people, other events, other stories?  Or am I afraid to read, in case I stop working?

It's really strange ...

Troubleshooting

 When K&L moved everything in, they found, setting up the bedroom, that the light switch (common to many bedrooms) that controlled a wall socket so that you could turn a lamp on and off from the door, was a problem.  If anything was plugged into it, and switched on, and you turned it on from the wall switch, it blew the circuit, and that circuit shut down about half the apartment.  (Including my computer in the office.)

Well, I've had other things to do.  But, finally I told the management about it.  they were quite responsive, and got an electrician out fairly quickly.

He undid the wall plate, and connected a tester, and couldn't find anything wrong.  So first he tried to blame the lamp.  Gloria chose those lamps (they are a set of three) over thirty years ago, and we've been using them with no problems, so I was pretty sure that couldn't be the problem.  But it wasn't until I took the lamp, plugged it in elsewhere, and demonstrated that it didn't blow just *any* circuit that the electrician would look into it further.

We have to do troubleshooting all the time, in the computer world.  You get used to confirming that a suspected situation is, in fact, the problem.

So, having had his first idea shot down, the electrician got down to work.  He took apart the wall plug, and replaced some stuff.  He took apart the switch plate, and replaced some stuff.  He didn't consider the circuit breaker itself, because they (the electrical firm) always used top quality parts, and it *couldn't* be the circuit breaker.  (I assume they are the ones who electrified the building.)  But, having exhausted all the other possibilities, he replaced the circuit breaker.  That fixed the problem.  So, obviously, that was the problem.

(The electrician is so fixated on the quality of those parts that he's going to send the defective circuit breaker back to the distributor ...)

Helpful

I've researched and come across a lot of lists of what to do when your "loved one" dies, but the one I wish I had known about *before* Gloria died is from the Delta Hospice Society, and is the most succinct and yet directly helpful:

https://deltahospice.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/WhenSomeoneDiesWEB-1.pdf

Lighten

 He didn't have much, and maybe not enough for food, so his boy might be hungry tomorrow, and that would be tragic.

But in this moment, the boy had just discovered an ornamental feature that seemed to be steps that were just his size, and his delighted laughter lightened life for everyone around.

When we share what we have, even if it isn't much, even if it isn't material, it might make life tolerable ...

We're all going to die ...

 I have, for the past few days, been feeling an unidentified and pervasive feeling of dread or doom.  I have no idea why.  I just have this pretty constant feeling that something really, really bad is going to happen.  What?  I have no idea.  It may be that, among the huge number of things that I need to get done, I'm missing an important tax deadline.  It may be that an asteroid is about to obliterate the earth.  (Actually, these days, that isn't something to dread.)

Joking about not fearing death probably misrepresents my feelings about it.  I never have feared dying, as far back as I can remember.  I'm not keen on physical pain, but that's why suicidal ideation has been such a problem for me: if I could find a way to die, without being hurt, first, I have no particular objection to that.

Anyway, back to impending calamities.  I know that I am definitely getting close to missing deadlines.  I've been lax about renewing my car insurance, which is due Friday.  But Friday I will be in hospital having a colonoscopy.  (Yeah, yeah, I know, some of you are really grossed out by the thought of that: TMI.)  And, if possible and the sedation has worn off, I want to get (which means drive) to Jeannette's memorial on Saturday, so that means the car has to be insured by then.  (I used BCAA's online booking to make an appointment later today.  Actually, two appointments, back to back, 3pm to 3:30pm, and 3:30pm to 4pm, because their brain dead booking site only allows for half hour slots [and only one topic per visit].  I have to renew the car insurance [snapping a picture of the odometer to prove I don't drive much], change the address, rework the renters insurance [being in a concrete building with smoke alarms and fire sprinklers should be a lot cheaper], tell them Gloria is dead, and get the membership redone, because Gloria was always the "master" member.)

The appointment is near Strawberry Hill (next door to Subway), so I might as well check out that Scotia branch (just across the street), and the Cobs, as well.  (Is that the *only* bakery in North Delta?)

I still can't identify any specific problem that would cause me to be feeling such dread.  It's not paralyzing, but the feeling is pretty strong.  Is it a symptom of grief?  Is it depression?  (It doesn't feel like depression: I know depression, and it feels too strong and active for that.)  Is it an indication that I've been keeping the grief too bottled up, and it's about to blow my personality into tiny little pieces, scattered all over the emotional landscape?

(And I just had one of those "your card has been charged with ..." scam calls.  At 6 AM!  I'm rather regretting that I didn't "press 2," which would, presumably, have connected me with some fraudster, and I could have legitimately vented my unreasoning anger superpower at him or her ...)

Not doing as well as I thought

 It's been a busy few days.

On Thursday I had the first actual grief counselling session.  Since it was the first session, I figured the first thing to do was to outline what had happened, starting with Gloria's medical history, mostly over the past seven years, but also with references farther back.  In the past month I've outlined this to at least a dozen people, for the most part without any emotional reaction.  This time, I had no sooner started, than I started crying, and I cried most of the way through the hour-long session.

Obviously, I'm not doing as well, emotionally, as might be supposed from my general level of functionality.

I rather suspected that this might be the case.  When I married Gloria, I knew nothing about emotions.  And all I really know, even now, is that I'm pretty much an emotional wreck.

It's interesting that I broke down crying in the counselling session.  Perhaps it's because I don't know this person.  This is a professional; she has, undoubtedly, had lots of people break down crying in grief counselling sessions; I don't have to impress her; in a sense this is a "safe place."  (Even though it's over the phone, and there's no "place" involved.)  She *is* a professional: she "validated" my breakdown, saying that crying (and lack of sleep) are the two most common grief reactions.  This is normal.

And, as I said, not completely unexpected.  I mostly don't get through a day, yet, without at least one time crying.  (Yesterday I sent to dinner with a friend, and L wanted to use that time to get rid of Gloria's clothes, and I knew that, and went through the clothes myself to make *sure* I was good with them going, but it was *still* a wrench when I got home and they were gone.  And I cried.  And I'm crying now writing this.)  But, also, interesting that it was so immediate and protracted.  I'm not done yet (well, I didn't expect to be done quite yet), but also I've obviously got more stored up (bottled up?) than I realized.  I've already booked another appointment with this grief counsellor, and I'm also booked for a session with a "grief circle" group counselling situation over Zoom this coming week.  (As the ancient Chinese curse has it, may you live in interesting times.)  I figure I can use all the help I can get.

(I took some pictures of the sunrise out of the solarium window the morning before the day Gloria died.  [Not ultimate, not antepenultimate, but penultimate, I guess.]  It was quite a pink sunrise, but Gloria wouldn't open her eyes.  I have the pictures on my phone, and I emailed them to myself so I could save them on to the main desktop computer, but, even though I have now done that, I found it surprisingly hard to make myself delete the emails, even though they were now redundant.)

At the same time, "life" seems to be ramping up in the busy-ness department.  On Friday I had an appointment with my doctor.  And my banker.  And a haircut.  All in North Van.  The doctor and I mostly talked about sleep.  Gloria had some sleeping pills, which I *didn't* turn back in to the pharmacist.  The doctor wanted me to try them.  I have; three times now; and they don't seem to help.  All they seem to do is leave a bad taste in my mouth.  (Literally.)  Gloria was also on antidepressants, which I also didn't turn back in at the pharmacy.  (Not quite sure why, although I suspect that I suspected that the doctor might have wanted to try me on them for depression at some point.)  At any rate, this particular antidepressant is apparently also good for sleeping problems, and the doctor wants me to try them for a couple of weeks.  I've tried them for a couple of days, now, and, while I still haven't had an eight hour (or more) night, they do seem promising in staving off the four hour nights.  (Gloria also had some valium-like stuff, and I turned that back in at the pharmacy, and now I'm wishing I hadn't, but the doctor is just as glad I did.)

The appointment with the banker wasn't as satisfactory.  Even though this should be pretty standard they are going to be taking weeks about it, and my banker wasn't really sure what was going to happen, and so I've had to start up a number of new accounts "just in case" they are needed at some point, and I had to dump some accrued interest in order to ensure I had more cash flow room, and it's possible some of the banking people have made basic mistakes (years past) that are going to cost me significant money now, and these are the people who I am trusting with all my money?

And yesterday I also searched out and walked to the nearest LifeLabs to find out how long it would take, and booked an appointment for Tuesday because I've got another appointment with the doctor in a month and she wants some bloodwork, and on Wednesday there's the grief circle as well as a security seminar, and Thursday I have to do the (yucky) prep for Friday's colonoscopy, and also a friend is running a "listening circle" that I've been meaning to check in on, and Friday is the colonoscopy and L has to get me to North Van by 7:15 AM (because I'm not allowed to drive myself after it), and Saturday is Jeannette's memorial and I want to be there particularly since Alex was waiting for her to die at LGH while I was still not knowing that I was waiting for Gloria to die at LGH and I was running around trying to find out which ward they had moved Jeannette to *today* (and never did) and they are having Jeannette's service at WVBC like Gloria and so I want to see how that starts up on their Website so I will try and take a laptop and sit in the narthex and see if I can get on their wifi and watch what kind of instructions we need to give the people who want to watch Gloria's memorial service at the end of February, and I want to know if it is different than their Sunday service streaming because they have only just started this so I am going to see how the Sunday service starts later on this morning ...

Changing sides

 I'm going to switch sides.

Of the bed.

I've always slept on the left side of the bed.  Even before Gloria and I got married, in my own place, I had the room set up so that I slept on the left side of the bed.  When we got married, Gloria slept on the right side of the bed, so, that made sense.  And, over the years, in the old place, it also made sense that, being on the right side of the bed made increasing sense for Gloria, as that was the shorter and quicker route to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  (You younguns won't understand this yet, but eventually you will.  As you age, regardless of how much sleep you want or need, eventually your bladder wakes you up every few hours.)

In the new place, that arrangement *would* have made even more sense, as the trip to the bathroom is even shorter from the right side of the bed.  But, of course, being a creature of habit (as all we human beings are), I set up on the left side of the bed.  Well, I no longer need to leave the right side for Gloria.  And it makes even more sense to switch when you consider that, given my particularly back alignment, it's best if I sleep, for the most part, on my left side.  When I'm sleeping on the left side of the bed, this means I'm facing into the middle of the bed, and have to roll over in order to see the clock, on the nightstand, to figure out if it's time to get up yet.  (Most of the time, these days, the answer to that question is "no," but, as you will note from the timestamp of this posting, after half an hour or an hour, the answer, regardless of the time, is also, "well, it's pointless to stay here any longer, so I might as well get up and do something.")  Switching sides, and nightstands, also means that, if the phone rings, it's much easier and quicker to lunge for it if *I* happen to be in the bathroom.

Switching nightstands will also force me to deal with the detritus left in Gloria's nightstand, which I've been able to ignore, up until now, by the expedient of simply ignoring it.  (It may, of course be as simple as switching drawers, since the nightstands are identical.)  Switching the phone and the clock over shouldn't be too arduous, and that's it.

But it's interesting that it has taken me this long to even consider this option.  And it's interesting that I have some reluctance, even now, and even in the face of all the logic of the move.  This is one more rejection and betrayal of Gloria, and her needs and choices, now that she's dead.

So, maybe I won't switch right now, but in the morning, when there is more light to move things by ...

You must always use your unreasoning anger superpower for good, never for evil ...

 A part of dealing with grief is dealing with your anger.  For a while I turned it on Lucky/Bell/CounterParth/Alianza, but that's pretty much over.  But I've found a new target to displace my anger. 

I got a call from one of those "Windows technical department" scammers.  Up until now I've just asked "which computer?" if I didn't immediately hang up.  But this time he ended his initial spiel with "How are you today?"

So I answered, "My wife is still dead.  How should I be?"  And then I *really* let him have it over "which computer."

If he quits his job, my time on this earth has been worthwhile ...

Bereavement information pamphlet

 The social worker from the hospital gave me a bereavement information pamphlet.  Actually, she didn't give it to me, she emailed me a PDF.  I would have preferred a physical pamphlet: I always have dealt with physical reading materials better than electronic, except in very specialized situations.  So, part of the reason I haven't read it up until now is that I have to be on the computer to read it, and I have had other things to do when I'm on the computer.

I've also avoided reading it, because I figured it would be poking into raw areas.  Well, I was right.

One of the first things I learned is that Vancouver Coastal Health, or some such agency, has an "Honour a Life" memorial gathering in early December, at Van Dusen Gardens.  Normally a mass grieving situation wouldn't be my thing, but, next year, it'll be close to the one year anniversary of Gloria's death, so it seems somehow appropriate.

But, yes, as I went through the pamphlet, it prompted a lot of crying.  It points out that you shouldn't make major changes right away.  OK, *that* horse left the barn a while ago.  One of the points hit me hard: it warns about rushing into new relationships.  I can really see the temptation.  As previously noted, I'm feeling really, *really* (*REALLY*) lonely, and, basically, pretty much all my friends are being very little help in this regard.  Finding somebody, *ANYBODY* to be a friend right now is something that is really attractive, and with emotional damage, and judgment impaired, it's quite possible to get into trouble that way.  It talks about wanting to die, or lack of meaning in life: definitely can relate to that.

It talks about finding bereavement groups, which is probably a good idea.  I've been looking around.  There is a Grief Circle here in Delta.  They are going to be meeting via Zoom.  (CoVID is not making any of this any easier ...)

It warns about trouble getting rid of your loved one's belongings.  I know that there are some things (possibly seeming silly to others) that I am keeping, at least for now.  But I don't think I'll have a whole lot of trouble there.  I've already put some of Gloria's books (and books are important to me) into a box.  I haven't put her clothes into boxes, but I have gone through some of them, and I don't think that'll be an issue.  I've gone through her photo albums, and they are boxed and ready to go to K.

It says to share your memories with those who will just listen.  Well, I'm sharing with you, oh my brothers and only friends.  Whoever you are.  (Maybe you are one of those inappropriate new relationships the pamphlet is warning me about.  Hmmmm ...)

It talks about dreams and visitations.  I don't have dreams (well, everybody have dreams, but I remember very, very few), so that may not be an issue.  Then again, maybe my subconscious is just waiting until I let my guard down in order to ambush me, but good.

It also talks about writing a journal.  Hello, journal!

It also talks about sleep.  I'm already doing everything it says.  It isn't helping ...

It talks about anger.  For a while, there, I had a bit of a vent.  I could, quite legitimately, be angry at Lucky and Bell and CounterPath and Alianza, who deserve to be called out for really, really lousy customer service.  Then I didn't have to be angry at poor front line staff over all the stupid policies regarding all the administrative details I have to attend to over Gloria's death.  But, that's pretty much over.  Which leads to depression ...

O. T. C.

 OK, *that* one came out of left field.

I'm doing the accounts.  I'm getting better at it.  (At least, I *think* I am ...)  I don't break down over Always, or Gloria's drugs, or even dinners I remember.  Usually.

But this one didn't have much on it.  It was London Drugs, but all it said was O. T. C.  I figured that meant "over the counter," but I was puzzling why London Drugs, with all its scanners and barcodes, would put such a generic entry on the slip.  So then I looked at the store location, and it was Byrne.  Which reminded me that we were on the way to a last minute invite, and Gloria's stomach started acting up on the way, and she hadn't brought Buscopan, so I pulled into the London Drugs on Marine Way, and ran in and got some.  And the reason her stomach was acting up was probably to do with what killed her, if we had known it then, which we didn't--we were just blaming the IBS ...

Accounts have been delayed a bit ...

The scientific mind is not yet rested

 Gloria always thought I was intelligent, and knowledgeable, and interesting.  (Well, you can't *always* be right.)  She would often ask me, at random moments, "What are you thinking?" and she was so often intrigued at the answers, and considered me an example of the scientific mind: I was always thinking of *something*.  If this had been the other way around (and, frankly, I never expected to be doing this: I always figured that women live longer than men, and that her family lived longer than mine, so I figured that we'd be going pretty much together) she had an epitaph all picked out for me: the scientific mind is finally at rest.

(She told me that she had something for my eulogy all picked out, based on a tech geek quote I had in my email signature block quotes file:

If it's     there and you can   see it, it's real
If it's     there and you can't see it, it's transparent
If it's not there and you can   see it, it's virtual
If it's not there and you can't see it, it's *gone*

But she didn't write it out and leave it in the file, so I guess I'll never know what she wanted to do with it.)

So, I still shower in the morning, but I no longer have a tub and shower curtain: I have a shower enclosure, with a door.  And the bathroom is equipped with an automatic fan, that senses when there is moisture, and ramps up accordingly.  And I was thinking, as I got out of the shower, why does the fan always come on slightly after I get out of the shower?  After all, hot and moist air rises, and there is about a foot of opening above the shower enclosure, so why should it only be after I open the door that there is enough moist air to trigger the fan?  And then I realize that as soon as I open the door, the colder air, from outside, rushes in, and the hot, moist air in the shower enclosure rises, and that blast triggers the fan.

And who is there now to care about things like that?

Christmas Rose

 A few years ago, K&L gave us a potted arrangement, which contained a Christmas Rose.  We've always been pretty hard on live plants: we could kill just about anything.  Most only lasted a month or so, some could stretch their existence to a few months, but I don't think we've ever had anything last even a year.

The Christmas Rose not only survived, but has bloomed, for three years in a row, just before Christmas, each year.  Gloria always loved pink, and particularly the deep pink of the Christmas Rose.  So she loved the plant.  We mistreated it, like all the others, and it froze, and dried out, and lost branchfuls of leaves, but it managed to make it through each year.

So, I was a bit busy during December this year, and checking on the plant was low on the priority.  But I did check it on the day that outside stuff was being moved, and it wasn't showing any indication of blooming.  However, we moved it anyway, figuring we could always throw it away later.

So today, after church, I checked the plant.  And, lo and behold, there are at least three buds on it.  Which is kind of like it's Gloria's favorite plant and it's now Gloria's representative.  (No, I'm not going to make a shrine out of it, or get all newage-y and think that Gloria has been reincarnated into the plant.  It's just a nicer reminder than the accounts ...)

And, on April the fourth, 2022, I noticed:

So it's not dead yet!

Ceterum censeo Lucky Mobile and Bell Mobile delendam esse

 Note to Lucky Mobile, Bell Mobility, and other communications or tech services who think they can get away with support services that do not provide any actual support: do not annoy and ignore grieving widowers.  They are already mad at the world, and they have an awful lot of time, and no restraining influences to prevent them from doing the most detailed and damaging review of your so-called services.

When Gloria died, I had this spare cellular phone.  I quickly realized that I didn't want to simply use it as is: it irked the girls, and there was too much danger of accidentally calling the grandkids, and freaking them out with calls or texts from their dead Grama.  At the same time, my baby brother, who had had a side business selling SIM cards for travellers, and knew a thing or two about the rates and services of the various mobile or cellular service providers, told me about Lucky Mobile, which you could get by buying a SIM card at Dollarama for four dollars, and signing up.  He suggested the $25 per month plan, which provides for unlimited (no long distance) voice calling across Canada, and unlimited SMS texting to the United States and around the world.  (I haven't tested the international texting part yet, but possibly by the time I've finished this review.)  So far, the Lucky Mobile cellular service seems to be working fine calling across Canada.  (They have a "refer a friend" program, so, if you want to try it out, let me know and we'll both get a discount.)

Now, my baby brother doesn't have any friends in the United States, and so he hadn't looked into the costs or capabilities of calling there.  But I *do* have lots of US contacts, so I tried to find out how much it would be to call them.  I couldn't.  Lucky seems to have a number of long distance calling plans, but they all seem to be for the Philipines, or Hong Kong, or other distant regions.  None covered the US.

When searching through the Lucky Mobile site, I saw mention of a "Lucky Community Forum," so I went on to that.  Searching for US calling found a question that mirrored my concern.  A couple of replies simply echoed that issue, but one merely contained a URL.  The URL was to an app in the Google Play Store.  The app, variously called the Lucky Wi-Fi Calling app, or Lucky Wi-Fi Talk & Text, promises, if you are in a location with wifi service, that you can place unlimited voice calls and send (and receive) SMS texts anywhere in the United States and Canada.

The process has multiple steps, but is not too terribly complicated.  You download the app from the Play Store.  Then you install it.  During installation it asks you to set various permissions, all of which seem to be reasonable.  (The only one that might cause trouble is the one that asks for permission to appear on top of other activity on the phone, which would be required for receiving calls.  When this permission is requested, you have to "back out" of the permission screen in order to continue the installation process.)  At one point in the installation process, the app asks that you provide your Lucky Mobile cell number, and they then send you a code that you enter in order to prove that, yes, you do actually have a Lucky Mobile service plan.  The system then gives you a choice of five phone numbers, which, once you have chosen one, becomes the number for your wifi calling service.  It works fairly well, and uses your contacts list on the phone.  (Although, the first time you try it, it says you have no contacts, and you then have to give it permission to read your contacts.  It might make sense to make this part of the installation process, rather than making it a separate process.)

The wifi phone, or "softphone," as it would more generally be known in the VoIP world, seems to work fine.  I've made numerous calls with it in the course of testing and retesting during the period of this review, both to Canada and to the United States.  You can call landlines, cell/mobile phones, and even other softphones.  There have not been any particular problems.  The softphone even works well with incoming calls on the smartphones own cell phone system, and you can take a call on the cell phone, deal with it quickly, and return to the softphone without any problems.  The one issue that I have noted, is that the softphone, unlike the cell phone, does not blank the screen during the call.  This means that, since the screen is *always* the biggest power draw on the smartphone device, regardless of what else is going on, Lucky's Wi-Fi Talk and Text is a real power hog, and will run your battery down quite quickly.  I estimate that about two hours of wifi calling, on my phone, will run you from 100% to dead.

Actually, the code doesn't quite prove that you have a plan with them.  I have the two phones, so I installed the app on both, and it did install on both.  When I entered the Lucky number [hmmmm] on the second phone, it "remembered" that I was registered, and so gave me the same number.  Fair enough.  As far as I can recall, when I started testing the wifi calling service, it worked fine on both phones.  But then it didn't.  And that's when the support hell started ...

First off, one phone seemed to stop working.  It suddenly starting showing that it was "Unregistered," but there was no explanation of why, or how to re-register it.  My first reaction was, fair enough.  They don't want you to have two phones using the wifi calling service if you only have the one mobile plan.  But I was interested in how to switch back and forth between the two phones, even if I could only use one at a time.

Support for Lucky Mobile seems to be limited to the various simplistic pages that they've put up on their Website, and a text chat function.  In terms of the Lucky Wi-Fi Calling app, there is one page that explains the installation process, and provides a little bit of explanation of how to use it.  That's it.

So I tried the text chat function.  This is painful.  First off, you are answered (eventually: the system seems to be pig slow, and that's probably not fair to pigs) by a bot.  It asks you, in different ways, mostly about marketing type issues: do you want to activate a new phone, do you want to upgrade your service, that type of thing.  Eventually it asks if those lists of options were helpful, and, when you tell it no, it finally offers to connect you with an agent.

Well, it *might* connect you with an agent.  Most of the time (so far I've made eight calls through the chat function) you get put on a sort of hold waiting for the next available agent.  This is an interesting exercise in trying to figure out how many agents there are, and how many customers are calling in at any given time.  The hold function seems to keep some activity going on the chat line, and sometimes tells you that X people are ahead of you in line.  But, once you are actually interacting with an agent, you get a lot of canned responses, and the agent seems to be distracted, and I wonder how many customers a given agent is interacting with at any given time.

It's actually difficult to tell when you've got a live agent, and not a bot.  The agents obviously have a script, and boilerplate responses to use in a variety of situations.  Over the number of calls I've had to make, it strains credibility that so many different agents would, in similar situations, use *exactly* the same text to tell you that, for example, they are going away to check something but that you should stay on the line, or that, "I can help you check the best option for that."

It's also an exercise in frustration.  You can wait a long time for an agent to finally acknowledge you.  But if you don't acknowledge right away when they do, they drop the call.  And it's not easy to get back into the chat when they drop the call.  You basically seem to have to sign out of the system and back in again to be able to do so.  And then you are dealing with the bot, and then you have to wait, and then ...  Of the eight calls I've made so far, three terminated at this point.  Two terminated prematurely after I started talking with an agent because of a server failure or disconnect (and, of course, nobody ever calls back).  Two finally got punted to the next level.  The next level is Bell's first line support, and two of my calls got through to that point, but were then terminated prematurely by some failure without resolving the issue (and, of course, nobody ever calls back on those, either).  At this point, the issue is still not resolved, but I have finally been punted to Bell's *second* level of support, and, supposedly, somebody is going to call me back.  (Some time in the next three days.)

Over some of the calls, the agent asked me to uninstall and reinstall the app, and to reboot my phone.  This got to be interesting.  Normally, on an Android phone, when you want to uninstall an app, you go into settings, select apps, select the app you want to uninstall, and select or click uninstall.  This doesn't work with the Lucky Wi-Fi Calling app.  If you do it that way, the app will disappear from the apps list under settings, but it is definitely still installed on your phone, and can be accessed in a variety of ways.  I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to blow the whole phone off.  However, if you look into the Google Play Store app, and access your own account, and, under "Manage your apps and devices," find the list of all your installed apps, you can then select the Lucky Wi-Fi Talk & Text app and *successfully* uninstall it that way.  (But this is definitely strange behaviour, and a *very* good reason to install the app via the Google Play Store rather than directly from Lucky.)

In the meantime, the Lucky Wi-Fi Talk and Text has gotten flakier.  Now *neither* phone will send SMS text messages.  A large red dot, with two curved white arrows on it, also now appears on the screen.  (It was also there when the first phone "unregistered," so I can't help thinking that it has something to do with the problem.  But it isn't active, and there is no indication of what it is or what it is supposed to be indicating.  I keep offering to send people screenshots of it, but Lucky's first level support and second level support [Bell's first] keep saying that they aren't allowed to receive email.)  (When I eventually started posting about this publicly on Twitter, I did have a conversation with someone at Lucky through Twitter DMs, and sent it via that.  Supposedly this has now gone to Lucky's third level support [Bell's second].)  By this time I had confirmed that at least US text messaging is available with the original Lucky Mobile cellular plan that I have (still haven't confirmed international SMS texting), so by now this is no longer about a communications requirement, and has simply become an exercise in determining just how bad Lucky and Bell's "support" actually is.

I haven't yet made contact with Bell's second (Lucky's third) level of support.  They may be trying to contact me: my home number's answering machine (I told them to call my home number, since they only wanted one number to call) recorded two blank calls while I was out on an errand yesterday morning, and another while I was out for my doctor mandated walk in the afternoon.  However, no message was left in any of those calls, so I doubt they were from Bell.

Posting a question or issue on the Lucky Community Forum seems to be a useless proposition.  I did not receive any help via that route.  Because of duplication in my replies, as I posted my query under various other queries that seemed to be related, the moderators almost instantly responded by deleting some of my posts, and moving others, but no answers or help were provided.  Because I followed up with additional details, as I found out more, the system sent me an email asking me to accept one of my followup posts as an "accepted solution," which makes no sense at all, except to a bot.  (Which seems to be what most of Lucky Mobile's support is run by.)  (The email came from an address which, of course, is used only for sending out this type of spam, and does not receive replies.)

By the way, when I posted this review to the Lucky Mobile Community Forum, it was *IMMEDIATELY* marked as "spam" (and so, presumably, made unreadable by their users).

About a day later a moderator did post a reply to one of my queries, asking if my phone software was up to date, and asking me to accept that as a solution.  I had, of course, already done this, and much more in regard to the uninstalling and re-installing of the app, and rebooting the phone, and, no, it didn't solve the problem.

At this point in the saga, there is a bit of a delay.  I don't know what was happening on the Lucky or Bell side, but, on my side, I had to get some other work done, and spent an absolutely horrible day doing accounts (which is another story).  So I was not pursuing Lucky or Bell about the problem.  I did continue testing the Lucky Mobile cellular plan that I was on, and confirmed that texts to and from US and international cellular/mobile phones and numbers did happen, and generated no extra charges.

As previously noted, I had, through dint of persistence and multiple attempts, been able to get to the third level of Lucky support, the second level of Bell's support.  I had been given an escalation number, and some contact numbers if they did not call me back.  However, my public postings on both Twitter and the Lucky Community Forum had also sparked interest.  In both cases I was contacted privately (Direct Message on Twitter, and the private message function on the Lucky Community Forum), asked for additional details on myself and my plan, and promised that the problem would be escalated to a higher level of support.  In the case of Twitter, the person contacting me was aware that I already had an escalated call open: in the case of the forum, they did not seem to be aware of this.  I have frequently found, with companies facing the retail market, that posting the details publicly is an effective way to get attention for your problem.

(I might also note, as an interesting side issue, that the base software licensed for the Lucky Community Forum is obviously the same as that licensed by (ISC)^2 for *their* Community, so the similarity in names is unsurprising.)

Another interesting side issue: When my baby brother put me onto Lucky Mobile, they had a "refer a friend" promotion, which I alluded to earlier.  It provides a discount for both the referring and referred friends.  A couple of days after I started all this hassle with Lucky's support, and started publicly posting about it, I got an email saying that my Refer-A-Friend submission was not successful, despite all the information submitted being correct and within the terms of the promotion.  (Maybe my public postings about them got them mad?)  I posted this paragraph on the Lucky Community Forum, as a separate posting (as a separate issue), and the moderators moved it to be a reply to a different posting (although on the same topic), but also editted my posting, and took out some material.

I have now had a call back from, well, someone who said he was calling from Lucky.  (Whether that is actually Lucky or Bell was not specified.)  He first called my cell, which was not the instructions I had left in regard to contact for the Bell second level people, so that seems to indicate that he is someone in Lucky, rather than the escalated call to Bell.  However, even though he left messages on both my cell and home phone (which he did call after calling my cell), he didn't provide any information that could help.  Instead, he wanted to know what the error message was that I was seeing.  Now I'd specified that many times in the "chats" I had with support, and I've now sent a screenshot (showing the error message "No account available for SMS") through two different channels.  Obviously, Lucky and Bell, even though they are in the communications business, don't talk to each other.

The next contact was via Twitter, and said, verbatim (except for Xing out the agents initials), "Hi! I just wanted to follow up and make sure your concerns have been addressed. If you still need our help, please let us know. We’re here to help you out. Thank you. > XX"

On both messages, left on both phones, the support person had said that I would be contacted again within 24 hours.  They were about six hours late on that self-imposed deadline.  But I did finally get a call (on the cell, not the home phone, as I had instructed).  Again, the support person asked for the information that I had previously given, about the error message.  This time, however, when I said that I had a screenshot, he was willing to give me an email address in order for me to send it.  I also provided the complete account, up to this point, of the support saga.  He said that this would be passed along to the Lucky Wi-Fi Calling app "team," and that I would be contacted.

After the weekend, during which absolutely nothing had been done and nobody had contacted me, I was again contacted via Twitter: "Hi! I just wanted to follow up and make sure your concerns have been addressed. If you still need our help, please let us know. We’re here to help you out. Thank you. > XX"  Apparently, this assumption that all of my problems had been solved was generated by an internal message (which, of course, had not been communicated to me) that "I called customer and escalated ticket Id #12345 to CounterPath Team."  (I note that "ticket Id #12345" had nothing to do with the escalation number which I had previously been told.)  However, this, and a little Google Foo, indicated that yet *another* party, besides Lucky Mobile and Bell, had entered the picture.

CounterPath is a Vancouver company, with offices in one of the Bentall towers, with interests in voice over IP, videoconferencing, and "unified communications technology."  They were acquired by Alianza in March of 2021, at which time their corporate blog pretty much went dark.  They have a "softphone" (Bria) that combines voice and video, developer tools (Bria and Stretto), and do "white label" softphones for companies that do not want to bother developing their own.  I haven't yet downloaded a free trial of Bria Solo, but it seems pretty clear that Lucky Mobile Wi-Fi Talk & Text is simply a branded version of Bria.  (CounterPath *does* do APIs and SDKs, but the problems I am encountering are unlikely to reside in the back end of the app, and are much more likely to be in the interface.)  So, in addition to this saga being about the support failures of Lucky and Bell, this is now also about the support failures of CounterPath and Alianza.

In the meantime, my baby brother (who sorta started all of this), has become more interested in the app.  He is having vision trouble, and has a tablet with voice recognition and other aids.  The tablet, being a tablet, doesn't make phone calls, but, since he has a Lucky account anyway, he is interested in using the Wi-Fi Calling app (*IF* we can get it to work) to place calls through the tablet.  (We have also discussed a hack: my niece is currently in Foreign Climes, and, again, *IF* we can get the app to work, she can place calls back to Canada using it.)

Meanwhile it's presumably five days since the problem was "escalated" to CounterPath, and still nothing seems to be happening ...

On the morning of January 13th, I suddenly "received" a text that someone tried to send me on January 4th.  Also, the big red dot at the bottom right of the screen has disappeared.  Trying some calls and sending some texts did seem to be successful, although the test wasn't terribly conclusive.  Trying to get the other phone to work was not successful, but, this time, resulted in an error code of #CV007.  (Very James Bond?)

On the morning of January 14th, I did receive a call from Lucky's (or Bell's) support.  The call wasn't very informative, including where the caller worked.  He simply said that some other team had said that my account had been reset.  What was the problem?  He couldn't say.  If this happened again, was it going to take another two weeks to get it fixed?  He couldn't say.  What about the problem with the app on the other phone?  That wasn't supported.  Why?  He couldn't say.

Overall, the app does seem to work.  Over the weekend I placed a call of over an hour in length, with no problems.  However, if you *do* have problems, don't expect Lucky or Bell or CounterPath or Alianza to respond in any timely way, or with any details when they do.

And, an addendum: Lucky Mobile has sent me a (virtual) gift card, good for $20 at any participating Dollarama! How can they afford this largesse? Possibly because, of all those I've tried, I've yet to find a Dollarama that is "participating" ...

Additional problems with Lucky Mobile: Lucky *says* that they are going to charge you $25 per month, and they send you "bills" that say that, and they send you "receipts" that say you have paid $25, but they actually charge your credit card $28.  Also, it is impossible to get accurate information about charges, billing, or balances on their Website.

Why does my $25 plan keep charging Amex $28? Why do I never get a bill?  Why is there absolutely no detail on total billing on the Website when I sign on to my account?  Why is the site showing that I owe $5, when I'm on a monthly plan?

So, basically, Lucky Mobile doesn't provide any support, accurate information about charges, any warning about what they are going to actually charge, or any bills that reflect what was actually paid.

Lack of clarity?

 I did my first presentation since Gloria died, yesterday.  ("Security Awareness Lessons from Dr. Bonnie.")

I survived it, and I got lots of thanks and compliments.  (How many of those were due to my "bravery" in being able to present at all, I don't know.)  I used some illustrations and examples from or with Gloria.

Looking back on it, I have to note that all of the Gloria examples were either incomplete, or not comprehensive.  I'm afraid that, many times, it may not have been clear why I was using this particular illustration, or what I was illustrating.  I didn't break down at any point.  I may have been unconsciously hurrying past any particularly emotional points.  It may simply be the sleep deprivation, or background depression.  But although it seems like I can talk about Gloria and be OK, I'm not sure that I really can, or, at least, not in a completely public setting like a conference or meeting presentation.

Certified

 The crematorium people have finally delivered the "cremains" and, possibly more importantly, the death certificate.  There are all kinds of administrative things you need to do after somebody dies, and a whole bunch of them require the death certificate.  (Even placing an obituary in the paper seems to require confirmation by the "funeral home.")  Gloria died December 18th.  The death certificate itself is dated December 30th, so there was some kind of backlog there.  And then it took another dozen days (presumably delayed because of the snows, and possibly staff off sick with CoVID) to get it to me.

So, now I have to go and get about a half a dozen "certified  copies" made, and then start the rounds ...

(Gloria is sitting in her usual place on the couch ...)

TV

 I'm not watching TV.

That's not terribly surprising, I suppose.  Before Gloria and I got married, I didn't even *have* a TV.  Gloria had one, and the townhouse even had cable service (it came as part of the rent for decades) but the cable outlet was in a corner that wasn't convenient for where the TV was placed, and we never saw any particular need to connect the two.  Then one day some friends wouldn't come over unless they could watch some program on TV, so I went and got 50 feet of coaxial cable and connected them.

But we never really watched TV, or videos, until Ryan was almost three.  Then they were going to move back east, and Gloria thought Ryan would forget her, so I went and got a video camera and a VCR, and we extracted a promise from Number One Daughter to exchange video tapes, and then we needed a better TV, and then, since we had a VCR, I started to get some movies from the library, and so it goes.  We started watching the news (recorded on the new PVR that came when the cable system was upgraded), and, after the 2010 Olympics (and also because Devon was playing), Gloria got interested in hockey, and then became a Canucks fan.  For the past seven years, since the broken shoulder, we watched the (recorded) news with dinner, then a hockey game, if the Canucks were playing (sometimes also curling), then maybe Murdoch Mysteries, or Still Standing, or one of the British, Australian, or New Zealand series that we got to know through stuff I brought home from the library (if they were being replayed on PBS or Knowledge), and maybe a movie from the library.  At some point recently Gloria started watching a lot of quilting and stitching videos on YouTube, from channels of people whose newsletters she followed.  (Hmmmm.  Is watching a lot of YouTube videos a sign that the end is near?)

I still watch the news, recording it, and then racing through a lot of it, since I know what they are going to say about the high CoVID numbers or the amount of snow we had.  I've watched a few of the videos I've brought home from the library, but sometimes it feels like I chore that has to be done.  I don't even record the Canucks games any more.  I did enjoy watching them with Gloria, but I enjoyed her enjoyment of the games.  It's not as much fun without Gloria.

I'm plowing through some movies and DVDs (and it does, often, feel like a chore).  I'm using them to force myself to take a break sometimes, since, if I don't, I find that I just keep pushing and pushing at more tasks (and there certainly are no end of tasks).  I find that I am falling asleep, or at least dozing, with anything but action moves.  I wonder if this has to do with the sleep deprivation, or whether I really do need the breaks from work more than I think I do.

Carry forward ...

 Gloria is still helping me with accounts.

I'm finding annotations from up to a year ago where Gloria was trying to balance her chequebook, and it's helping me reconcile the running totals back then ...

Mind you, back then I would have been able to point out to her the weird numerical coincidence that two different bills, from two different stores, with different items being purchased, six days apart, both came to the same patterned number.  (Which I think is neat, and most people don't, but Gloria came to look for and find the patterns like I do ...)  (I don't imagine anybody will ever wonder why the 2021 accounts are so tear-stained ...)

Blur

 It's probably a good idea that this started out as a collection of the updates that I sent out to keep people up to date while Gloria was in hospital.  It's often surprising to me that it's been over a month since she went into the hospital.  (On the other hand, very oddly, it's surprising that the three weeks since she died is both that short and that long.)  I should go back and read all the details again.  But I doubt that my nerves and emotions would stand it right now, so maybe later.

As I've noted elsewhere, I don't know where the time goes.  I'm trying to keep up with email, and make sure that I'm not missing anything that I should be doing.  But, yesterday, pretty much all of the lower mainland was snowed in, so I wasn't going anywhere, and yet I only got two months of the accounts done.  When I think of it, I was doing other things: checking for the paper, contacting the Sun over the fact that the paper hadn't come, some minor issues with the Lucky Mobile problem, and some other contacts.  I did get out to the local store, and that wasn't fast since the sidewalks and parking lot, despite being shovelled and plowed, were still pretty slippery.  But, as I've also said elsewhere, everything seems to take longer than it should.  Even though I'm trimming what I'm doing with the accounts, a number of the things that Gloria and I used to do together take a lot longer with one person than with two.

I am functional, as I keep saying to people who ask how I am.  I'm getting through the accounts, even if I have to stop every once in a while to howl in emotional agony.  I'm feeding myself, even if the meals might be considered a bit odd.  (I'm trying to push fruits and salads at home, to make up for the occasions of binge comfort eating at fast food places.)  I'm vacuuming the bare floors a couple of times a week.  I've done several loads of laundry to catch up, although I subsequently haven't produced enough to justify a load.  I've made a couple of grief counselling appointments with different sources.  I'm collecting resources for what I'm supposed to do once I finally get Gloria's death certificate.  (They promised the ashes and certificate some time this week, and, since it's Friday today, they don't have an awful lot of margin to fulfill on that promise.)

I'm not thinking particularly clearly, so I'm sure that there are things I should be doing that I am missing.  I still don't have any particular plans.  Things are happening around me, and I'm trying to respond appropriately, but I'm not sure that I'm a really good judge of "appropriate" right now, and a lot of time I'm running on automatic, except that "automatic" often had references to Gloria, and so pieces of the process are missing ...

Accounting for accounts ...

 I have finished January of 2021.  Which doesn't sound like much.  But today has been an extremely difficult day.

As painful as it was, I also have a bit of a sense of accomplishment.  In places I had to go back almost to October of 2020.  In trying to sort out the various files that were very hastily packed in the move I have been able to find a lot of things that I thought had been lost.  And I've been able to get through the entire month, and sort things so that later months should be a bit less time-consuming.  The answer to the question of whether I can do the accounts without Gloria thus seems to be a resounding "maybe" as opposed to a definite "no."

But it's been arduous and enervating, and I think I'll go get dinner now ...

Triggers

 It's strange, what sets you off.

I decided to finally tackle the mountain of accounts.  I've got to do tax returns soon.  I'll have to do another "own your own business" one for myself, since I wrote the book in 2020 (and will get paid something this coming year for that), and also because I did some teaching this past year.  I'll have to go back a couple of years to bring forward some of the expenses, particularly for "business use of home."  So I need to be up to date on the household accounts for that.  And, of course, I'm going to have to do a final tax return for Gloria.  (Death and taxes, and all that.)

The household account are a year out of date.  We managed to catch up to the end of 2020, probably some time in April, so that I could do the 2020 taxes this past year.  But, after that, Gloria never felt up to a session of accounts.  So 2021 is sitting in a bunch of folders, sorted by month, but that's about it.  (I thought I'd lost the first week of 2021 in the move, but I think I've found them again.  Although some pieces don't seem to be there ...)  I haven't been looking forward to the enormity of the task, particularly with so many other competing demands on my time.

So, I girded up my loins, set out the account books, got out the accordion folder that Gloria keeps ... kept the current year's bills in, looked for (and didn't find) my coloured pens that I use to distinguish different kinds of entries in the books ... and started crying.  And kept crying for quite a long time.

We always did the accounts together.  Neither of us particularly liked doing accounts.  We did them in different, but complementary, ways.  I did a kind of general ledger, and Gloria did books of accounts.  We always did the accounts together.  And now I have to do them alone.

So, after a while I started sorting the folder where I found the slips from the first week of January, to make sure that nothing else was lost, and to check what was there.  And one of the things that was there was a scrap of paper with a postal code on it, because Gloria had wanted to write a formal thank you note for the friend of my mother's who had held a reception after my mother's memorial service, and I had looked up the postal code for her.  After my mother's memorial service, Gloria never felt well enough to get that done.  So I went to the box, which I knew I had here, where Gloria kept cards for emergencies such as this, and found a thank you card, and started to write out the thank you card ... and started crying again.

I'm crying as I'm writing this.  (I thought I had more boxes of Kleenex in stock.  They are probably in the storage locker in the basement ...)  I suspect it's going to be a crying day ...

Even the next day, as well as triggering over doing the accounts, there are a considerable number of triggers in the accounts.  Purdy's.  Gloria always insisted on getting Purdy's high quality chocolates for the grandkids at Easter, or for Halloween "gifts," or if we brought house gifts to a family party.  Always.  Well, I'm not going to be buying that anymore, am I?  (I don't even have to look for Ultra Fibre any more.)  The cheque for the yearly membership for the North Shore Needle Arts Guild.  Various candy charges in the groceries, because sometimes Gloria would suddenly want candy after dinner.  (And then, if I was stocking up to much in anticipation of when she would want candy again, she'd complain that I was buying too much ...)  The charges for my haircuts, because Zahir charged me double, because he didn't charge Gloria when he did her haircut, so that I wasn't coming into the work area during CoVID restrictions, even though I was always bringing Gloria for her haircuts.  Then there's sushi, which probably meant that Gloria didn't want much dinner that day, so I was augmenting my part of dinner with a little sushi, and the date is probably an indication that this, had we but known it, was an early warning of what was to come ...

And then there's Jacques Brel's "The Old Folks" ...

(Of course, for every Jacques Brel's "The Old Folks" there's also a Stan Rogers' "Mary Ellen Carter.")

How am I?

 Everybody asks how I am.  (I just misspelled that "who I am."  Freudian slip?)  How do I know how I am?  I am in a whirl, a muddle.  I am spinning around, trying to keep upright.  Most often I reply that "I've been better," which covers a multitude of sins.  (It's also my inappropriate humour mechanism.)  I'm trying to keep going.  I'm trying not to just sit here in misery and wait for the misery to stop.  Because it will be a long time before it stops.  And nobody really cares about my misery except me, so what's the point of dwelling on that?  They care about me paying the bills on time.  Some of them care about me eating, or sleeping, or eating "right," whatever that might be.  (No, thank you, I do *not* need oil of oregano.  It wouldn't help.  "It couldn' hoit!")

I am reminded of the time I moved to Kitimat for a teaching job.  Five minutes after I got into town, people were asking how I liked Kitimat.  How did I know?  I hadn't been there long.  I had no idea what it was like.  So, in the same way, I don't know how I am.  I am trying to figure that out, myself.

Policies and procedures

 Everything is harder and takes longer than I expect.  I am inefficient.  (Yes, thank you, I am well aware that for forty years I have been annoying people with the hypothesis that efficiency is not the be-all and end-all of business success, and that the pandemic has finally proven my case, by demonstrating the seven decades of the relentless pursuit of "market efficiencies" and "trimming the fat" and "lean and mean" has meant that capitalism was completely unprepared for the pandemic, and the pandemic's impact on supply chains thoroughly demonstrated that "outsourcing" and "no margins" also meant no resilience.  I'm not talking about that level of efficiency, I'm talking about wasted effort.)

I have no procedures.  Nothing is automatic.  Anything I go to do, I have to check whether everything I need is in place.  (Some of that is because I don't know where K&L put a lot of stuff.  Not that they didn't help.  They did, and they did an amazing job--but nobody is perfect, particularly when it comes to predicting what somebody else will need, long before they need it.)

Everything I go to do, I also have to figure out why I am doing it.  Did we do this because Gloria wanted it so?  Or because it is really necessary?  And, if Gloria wanted it so, did she have a good reason for it?  (She usually did.  But her system of accounting, for example, was predicated on the requirement to prove to family court what level of support she needed.  I don't think I will need to prove anything to a divorce court any time in the near future.)

I also have a tendency to do everything as it presents itself, because I don't have any processes in place to "bring forward" items that I will need later.  I relied on Gloria for a lot of that, but there is also the fact that a whole bunch of work is looming over me, and I need to know that it gets done, so I might as well do it now, but that also means that I have to stop what I was doing, and so, possibly, lose the prep that I did for that.

Fair warning ...

 Note to Lucky Mobile, Bell Mobility, and other communications or tech services who think they can get away with support services that do not provide any actual support: do not annoy and ignore grieving widowers.  They are already mad at the world, and they have an awful lot of time, and no restraining influences to prevent them from doing the most detailed and damaging review of your so-called services ...

Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care ...

 Well, I can't sleep.

Again.

I've often had problems sleeping.  It's gotten worse as I've gotten older, as seems to happen frequently.  And I need sleep.  I generally need more than the traditional eight hours, although I can function on less, and sometimes have, for very long periods, which I find odd.

The thing is, I don't sleep well without Gloria.

I first noticed this when I was out doing the seminars.  It wasn't jet lag: even if the seminar was in Calgary or Los Angeles I still had trouble sleeping.  And I mean real trouble sleeping.  I'd be out for a week doing the seminars, and most of the week I'd be getting two hours sleep a night.  On occasion (and not all that infrequently) I wouldn't be able to get any sleep all night.  The thing is, the seminars are pretty intense, not just for the candidates, but I have to stand up there for forty hours, and talk, sometimes to seminars that have half a dozen candidates who have fifteen to twenty years experience in different specialty fields of security, and not make a fool of myself.  It's a bit difficult.  So, initially, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to function without getting "enough" sleep.  However, after a while I realized that I was able to do the seminars just fine, even if I wasn't getting much sleep.  (I can recall seminars that I only got about eight hours sleep for the entire week.)  Eventually, I even used it to my advantage.  Business travel may seem romantic, but you really only see the insides of airports, airplanes, and hotel rooms.  All the tourist stuff is closed except for the times that I was actually in front of a seminar, so I had to do my sight-seeing at 4:30 AM when I couldn't sleep.  (Scared the pants off the RCMP security detail at 24 Sussex Drive at 4:30 AM one time, but that's another story.)

Over the years, I tried all the usual suspect sleep options.  Hot bath, warm milk, big meal before bed, melatonin, Nytol, American antihistamines (the ones we get in Canada are mostly all the "non-drowsy" kind, but American antihistamines all used to use some form of diphenhydramine, which is basically what Nytol is), avoiding screens before bed.  None of them worked.  (Or, rather, most of them worked.  Once.  And then never worked again.)

(Out doing the seminars I did hot baths for two reasons.  One was to try to get to sleep.  The other was that, for old legs like mine, standing in front of a group for eight hours a day your legs get really tired and painful, and a good soak helps a lot.  And then I did a seminar in Norway, at a resort, and there wasn't a tub in the entire resort except for some hydrotherapy thing, so I made do with the steam room and sauna.)

Of course, as Gloria got weaker before she went into hospital, I was stressed, so I wasn't getting much sleep.  And then she was in hospital, so I wasn't getting much sleep.  And then I was sleeping at the hospital, so I wasn't getting much sleep.  And then she died.

Since then I've had a couple of nights when I've had close to eight hours of broken sleep.  Certainly never more.  Mostly I've been getting about five hours sleep.  And it's not that I can't get to sleep, initially, but that eventually I wake up, very early, and then can't get back to sleep.  This morning I woke up at 1:30, tried to stay in bed for an hour, but eventually realized I wasn't going to get any more sleep, so I'm up writing this.  And none of the traditional sleep "aids" address waking up too early.

Hopefully I'll get back to getting some sleep, eventually.  I don't know how long I can go on this sleep deprivation routine.  (Gloria was irked when I set my email "personal name" field to "Rob Slade, the famous sleep deprivation experiment."  When Ryan was born, she suggested "Rob Slade, the doting Grandpa of Ryan," and I liked that, so I've been known as "Grandpa Rob" in security circles ever since.)  When I worked at the hospital, many year ago, you generally chose either days and nights, or days and afternoons.  I did days and nights for four years, and managed to survive.  But twenty years later (and almost three decades ago, now) I did some more night shift and it practically killed me.

Is this grief?  The lack of a schedule?  Too much change all at once?

Take my wife ... please ...

 When I was teaching the seminars, Gloria would sometimes be driving me to the airport at 3 AM in order to catch a flight.  (Actually, usually it was me driving, and Gloria slowly waking up so that she could drive the car home after I got out at the airport.)  I would make some silly comment, and Gloria would look at me and say that she knew that I reacted to stress and sleeplessness by making jokes, but she didn't.  And she couldn't particularly handle jokes when she was tired.

(Come to think of it, Gloria mentioned that several times over the past year, as well.  Maybe she was trying to warn me of something?)

K&L, and the grandkids, simply refer to my "inappropriate humour."

A couple of the people I have talked to, recently, have said that I must be doing pretty well, because I sound cheerful and upbeat.  Of course, I am not cheerful and upbeat.  I am morose and depressed.  But I learned a long time ago, that people don't care if you are morose and depressed, and they don't want to deal with you if you are morose and depressed.  They like it better if you make jokes.  So, I got very fast and skilled at making jokes.  Regardless of the situation, and whether appropriate or not.  It's part of my coping mechanism.

Another part of my coping mechanism is persistence.  We, as a species, are persistence hunters.  Pretty much anything can outrun us--over the short term.  But long term, we can chase down pretty much anything if we keep gong.  Just keep going until what we are trying to track gets exhausted.  We can outlast pretty much anything.

I've been a depressive for more than five decades.  One of the things about depression is that you get tired, and stop doing things.  But my depression is cyclical.  (It used to be called manic-depressive of depressive type, but that doesn't fit well with the new DSM-V "bipolar" terminology.  Even my mental illness is non-standard.)  So, I just keep going until I outlast it.  When Ryan was little he loved the book "Are You My Mother," with the repeated refrain of "And the baby bird went on."  I modified that, for myself, to, "And the tubby beard went on."  So, I just keep going.  It's become more than just a coping mechanism; it's a big part of the way I tackle anything.  Faced with a problem, or starting a project, I'll just start, anywhere, with anything, even if there are lots of things I haven't got yet.  Do what you can with what you have right now.  When more comes you will already have some parts accomplished.  And, if you know Seligman's theory of learned helplessness, you know that accomplishing anything, even if it's a kind of false achievement, helps you out of the depression.  Eventually.  If you keep at it.

Gloria, of course, knew that.  She knew that I was a depressive when she married me.  She wondered if she could handle it, because one of her friends was married to a depressive and had a really difficult time with it.  But, over time, she came to see that, even when I got into a deep depression, I was still determined, and still kept going, even if only in the smallest way.  She came to value my persistence and determination, and that fact that, no matter what, I just kept taking the next step ...

There's a funny story about that ...

The great physician

 Martin hangs around with us in the security community, but he's actually a doctor.  He works (sometimes) for a company that makes medical software, which is, I assume, why he started hanging out with us.  I should also mention that he doesn't just hang out with us: he makes good contributions.  He has written a book, "Rethinking the Electronic Healthcare Record," and it should be required reading for anyone who is involved is systems development or even just basic programming.  He is talking, specifically, about medical records management, but he goes to the heart of determining the real requirements for a system, and how just throwing together some functions that are directed towards your goal, but don't really target the heart of it, can be worse than useless.  An awful lot of systems make that mistake, and would benefit tremendously from taking his approach.

Early during Gloria's hospital time, a sub-group of us (and Martin is part of that group) were discussing some of the details of what she was going through and the minimal information that I was getting from the hospital.  Martin wasn't party to that discussion, but he contacted me privately, and offered to help explain any of the medical issues that I didn't understand, which was kind of him (and yet one more example of my security colleagues offering more useful help than an awful lot of my supposedly closer friends).  I had, by this time, mentioned pleural effusion, and Martin told me to keep bugging them about the cytology on the fluid.

(I've just checked my email archive for accuracy, and I'm shortening this somewhat, but I don't think I'm doing a disservice to the discussion.  Also, it reminded me that this was a month ago.  So much has happened, it just seems a blur, and yet maybe only a few days ago ...)

It took a while for the cytology to come back, but I kept bugging them about it, so, when it did come back, they told me right away, and pretty baldly, that there were cancerous cells, adenosarcoma.  Now, to lots of people, The Big C is still considered a death sentence.  But, even though my sister and Gloria's brother had died of it, both Gloria's Mum and Dad had survived cancer, my aunt was a cancer survivor, and Gloria herself had survived the non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  So, death wasn't my first thought when they said cancer, although I knew if it came back, particularly in a different place, it wasn't great.  Martin hadn't said adenosarcoma, in his message to me, but he had thought it.  (Pretty good diagnosis and prognosis skills, from 7,000 miles away.)  And, when I reported this to him, his immediate response was to ask if they were planning palliative care.

I knew what that meant.

And it would be almost a week before the hospital would allow themselves to use that word.  After all, they don't want to tell someone that their loved one is doomed to die, until they have exhausted all the other possibilities.

The details of Gloria's death, and the exact timing, were a bit more complicated.  (The oncology report, when it did come in, implied that, if Gloria had either been treated or gone home, her remaining time would have been filled with pain and discomfort.)  But Martin had been right the first time, and so I had to take seriously the second implication.  So Martin, from 7,000 miles away, was my first advance warning, and gave me more time to prepare for Gloria's death.

He's really good at what he does.