Walking in the Shadows

Random musings from Warwickshire on life in general... Things that make me laugh, make me cry, things that wind me up beyond all endurance - and everything in between.

Showing posts with label British Gas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label British Gas. Show all posts

On the squeak.

Yet again, I have been hit with the lurgy. A triple whammy this time, with a dose of ‘flu (ok – not too bad – I’d had the jab), a chest infection and my asthma deciding to go haywire.

The ‘flu and the chest infection haven’t really helped my asthma, and when I went to see the doctor on Friday morning, I was squeaking and wheezing like there was no tomorrow – so it was straight onto the antibiotics and steroid pills (enough to get Mum to duck if I started coughing) and plenty of rest and fluids.

Ok – that go me through until Monday, when I started having to rely really heavily on my blue inhaler, but it didn’t really seem to help. So, back to the doctor I duly go, only to be put on a nebuliser.

This looks like an oxygen mask, with a little pot underneath which seemed to have two colourless liquids mixed in, and was then placed over the nose and mouth, with the instructions to breathe normally.

Ok – so far so good. However, it reminded me of a compressor (guess it was in a way) and all I could see was a sort of vapour escaping from the two side vents. But there was one slight drawback – I had to take my glasses off so that I could read, as the mask was a little too big for me. But, beggars can’t be choosers, and I have to admit that it has helped (as has having a hot water bottle semi permanently attached!)

Now onto the other problem… The boiler has started to play up, meaning that there is little heating in the house (hence the hot water bottle) and British Gas (in their alleged infinite wisdom) decided that as the boiler was running after a fashion, that they would cancel the engineer’s visit that I had booked for Tuesday PM.

Now that was ok on Monday, as the solution that my beloved gave me on Sunday night (bleed the radiators of air bubbles) had seemed to work. But this boiler has proven over the years to be a temperamental little SOB, and has now decided to really play silly buggers. It looks like the air pressure switch is playing up, meaning that the burner won’t catch properly (ah, the joys of the trouble shooting guide in the boiler handbook.)

Now comes the real kick in the teeth. Because the blasted thing is 20 years old, it would be very difficult to get another service contract on it, despite the fact that it normally runs without any problems. So, as I type this, I am sitting at my computer cursing British Gas and wishing that we had insisted on the engineer coming out, whilst Mum is giving British Gas a real blasting on the ‘phone.

I doubt that it will do much good, but I can understand her frustration, as we cancelled the original appointment at the request of British Gas, as we did have heating of a sort. However, the minute we try and point out that one of our neighbours is having a routine service visit, we then get told that because it was booked several weeks ago, then that can’t be changed. Thanks for bloody nothing.

It makes me wonder what the smeg my family have paid out all this money to British Gas over the years for this damned service contract, when all the dopes at the call centre can do is suggest that we go and buy a dimplex heater from B & Q. congratulations – they’ve sold out, and we are snowed in, so even if we wanted to get one, we can’t get out.

Ah well, guess I should go and reheat the hot water bottle and find something to keep myself out of mischief…

Back when I get the chance.


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most