I’m
currently re-discovering how an element of anxiety exacerbates, to a
considerable extent, the symptoms of a chronic illness. On this occasion the
anxiety is caused by the inept and dilatory response of Virgin Media to a known
issue which is preventing us from receiving incoming ‘phone calls on our
landline; the telephone is not only a lifeline for me but, there are several
vulnerable elderly people who depend on my beloved OH for lifts. These
vulnerable people only have our landline number as they are not mobile phone
users. As for myself, the mobile phone is scarcely ever used, as I’m rarely
away from my own house and garden and, therefore have little cause to switch it
on.
We are
still able to make outbound calls and, it was only by accident we discovered
that friends and acquaintances had been unable to contact us. Other ‘phone
users are also affected by, and may still be unaware of, this glitch.
The VM
website online phone-tester reported no problems with our ‘phone, and we were
also informed the line was engaged. I spent considerable frustrating multitudes
of minutes on their help-line and, even there they suggested no real problem.
Eventually an admission was made that someone else on the same exchange had
reported the same problem, namely that callers only heard a continuous, high
pitched whining drone when they dialled our number.
During the
first phone call, I was frequently put on hold whilst my ear-drums were blasted
with an execrable noise (which they maybe call music) for what seemed a like a
multiplicity of eternities. Eventually, I was assured that the
engineers would have the problem sorted by the end of the day. Of course this
didn’t happen so I contacted them via social media with my complaint in reply
to which I was informed that they had assisted me: the assistance I seemed to
be proffered was to be told that there was nothing they could do via social
media.
Later that
day I had a webchat with VM, the outcome of which seemed positive. The positivity
was short lived; the time in the afternoon, by which I was assured the problem
would be resolved, swiftly passed with no action having been taken.
By the
evening it was back to the 150 phone-line to enquire what was happening. At
first having tapped in sundry digits in response to the robotic voice I was on
hold for at least 20 minutes, my eardrums once again assaulted by shouted words
& excremental instrumental accompaniment. When I got through to tech
department I was at least able to quote a reference number for the issue but,
was told that he couldn’t find any evidence of there being an issue so, he
would put me through to network problems. Once again my eardrums were assaulted
by a demonic cacophony whilst I awaited the transfer department.
Maybe I was
getting somewhere. I was informed that it was a known issue, something to do
with ported numbers (i.e. numbers which were originally BT numbers) but for
decdes our line had been via Cable & Wireless which became NTL which became
part of Virgin Media. Although they knew exactly what the issue was/is they are
unable to say when it will be dealt with. To put it simply – THEY DON’T KNOW
WHAT THEY ARE DOING.
As I said,
at the beginning, these events & frustrations have certainly had a
deleterious effect on my already shot nervous system. Not only did I undergo
more sustained, sleep depriving, pain last night but it also does few favours
to my emotional well-being. A tainted Virgin and a chronic illness / chronic
pain partnership could so easily become lethal.
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