I think therefore I can't

It’s well documented that I’m a technophobe. I clung on to my retro-Nokia until it literally fell apart in my hand; I think the cloud is a fluffy white thing in the sky; a Trojan Horse is something do with ancient Greece; a virus isn’t cured with antibiotics; and Power Point is a sports drink.

My first fortnight as a mature student was therefore a nightmare. At one point I said to one of my supervisors, “I did not register for a PhD in IT!” The first thing I had to overcome was accessing my student email account. The nice little man loaded the required software and set up the required protocols, whatever they are, patted me on the head and told me I was all set. But he hadn’t actually told me how to access the account. 

Once that was sorted, I couldn’t get onto the university wi-fi, even though it had worked fine the previous day. Instead I had to rely on the fluffy white thing, which was slow and unstable. I eventually found an FAQ on the IT help site: “After you change your email password,” which I had done to make it easier to remember than the one assigned to me, “your device has to forget the Uni wi-fi and then you have to sign back in using your new password.” Piece o’ p-ss if I only knew how to make my device forget something. I know how to make Hubby forget something: just tell him not to and as sure as eggs is eggs …

Unlike many of my fellow Phudders, I managed to get onto Teams’ meetings very easily, except the name that appeared on my video for everyone to see was my private email user name and not my more pronounceable Uni user name, even though I had logged on to Teams via my Uni account. I also seemed unable to access a lot of the groups and files on the ‘Teams Chat’ (not that I know what that is other than it’s supposed to be very informative).

Somehow, after following link after FAQ after link, I learned that because I had originally downloaded Teams using my BT email account, BT was over-riding or clashing with the Uni details. So I uninstalled Teams and reinstalled it using my Uni account and now it works perfectly. Maybe I could do a PhD in IT after all. Actually no. Two training events on IT platforms and Digital Data Management put paid to that idea. The slides might as well have been in Klingon. When I first made that comment, I said ‘in Chinese’ and was told that was offensive to the Chinese. Firstly, why? Secondly, who cares given their record on Human Rights?

I got a few days’ welcome relief from IT when Sis was rushed to hospital for emergency surgery and I had to brave the idiot drivers (is that offensive to idiot drivers?) on the M1 to God’s own County (Yorkshire). I can always rely on Sis. 

The hospital originally told me she’d be in hospital for another fortnight, so I had planned to drive up Saturday to visit her for two days, then drive home again, then drive up again the next weekend. Imagine my surprise when I got there for the Sunday morning visit, only to be told that they were discharging her that afternoon. I looked at the scar, saw her blood pressure record, spoke to the physio and noted how much she was eating and drinking. Are you sure? I kept asking. They gave me that The NHS Knows Best look, which of course is bunkum, but Sis was very keen to come back with me, so Sunday late afternoon, we headed south on the M1.

Ninety minutes later, I reassured Sis that I was coming off at the next junction where there was a service station so she could get some air and settle her stomach. It was Donnington Park; the service station is more than 2 miles from the slip-road, and the roundabout was a nightmare because several idiot drivers had played whoopsies at an exit. Eventually, I parked in the service station and Sis opened the car door, moaning. “There’s a Travelodge,” I said, “Shall I book us a couple of rooms for the night?” “Yes please,” she whispered.

Armed with Hubby’s credit card, I headed for reception.

“Do you have two single rooms available for one night?” I asked politely. “Yes but you have to book on-line,” came the terse response. I said nothing. “You know,” she added, “using your phone.” I took a deep breath: “My phone is for phoning and texting … and Wordle,” I explained. “I don’t know how to do anything else.” “Every hotel’s the same,” she sighed. “No it’s not,” I squeaked. “I rock up to the Premier Inn all the time and they book me a room there and then.”

That’s not quite true – I usually book the room online using my laptop (not my phone), and only once did I extend my stay at reception.

I chuntered my way back to the car, where Sis had reclined her seat and was lying flat, pale, clammy, shallow breathing.

“You ok?” she asked when she saw my face.

“No I’m bl—dy not.” I fumed. “They only accept online bookings.”

“Aw cra-p,” she said. “You’re going to blog about this aren’t you.”