||| MIDNIGHT MUTTERINGS by JACKIE BATES |||

Where you been, Jackie B?
Yep, I’ve been away. From Orcas Island, from Real Life, from theOrcasonian.

Part I: Tech Hell
My descent began on February 8, 2022. Some of you have been in Tech Hell too, I assume. You skid along in Purgatory, trying to stay just on the surface of the giant tech wave that constantly threatens your tiny surfboard. The one that keeps you afloat in the world–that is, able to access international news and pay your utility bills on time.

I was in Seattle for some medical appointments which culminated in a visit to my ophthalmologist of 40 years. He dilated my eyes before turning me loose in one of the hospital buildings on Capitol Hill, where I set my eight year old MacAir down for a moment before wandering away in my haze of blurred vision to the parking lot for my ride back to Bellingham.

I was in Bellingham before I realized my MacAir, also known as MyBrain, had not been along for the ride. I knew exactly where I had left it and used my restored vision to phone Security at the hospital where I had been so careless. Officer
Francois answered immediately, identified himself and said no such device had been turned in. He tried to hang up when I interrupted to ask that he phone me when the MacAir was retrieved. He said he would do so. I suggested that he would need my contact information and he grudgingly listened to my name and phone number.

Not totally sure anything had happened, I called hospital security again, was oddly connected to the Volunteer Desk in the Main Building. I again explained my situation and the volunteer who transferred my information to the reception desk in the North Building, where a saint there retrieved my laptop immediately. Only a few minutes later, I called the reception desk where that lovely woman said she had called Security and Officer Francois had picked up MyBrain.

Having not heard from Officer Francois, I again called Security to confirm. Officer Francois asked me to identify my computer. ‘What color?’ he asked. Does it have your name on it? he continued. ‘Yes,’ I confirmed. ‘If you open it you will see a Post It note inside on the keyboard with my name, phone and e-mail address.’ (I have to say here that there is no evidence that Officer Francois was willing or able to open the laptop or use the information inside then or later.)

‘Is it very lightweight?’ was his next inquiry. Even in my decreasing confidence in Officer Francois and the hope that my MacAir and I would ever be reunited, I assumed this was not the time for sarcasm, not the perfect time to say, ‘Yes, it’s
lightweight. That’s why it is called a MacAir.’ I confirmed it was lightweight.

As I was returning to the hospital for more appointments in two days, on February 10, I told Officer Francois as much and asked where I might pick up said MacAir. He assured me that he would turn it over to the Security Officer at Urgent Care, who would lock it up in the appropriate place and retrieve it for me on Thursday. My last question was what were the hours Urgent Care, with its Security Officer, would be open. ‘24/7,’ Officer Francois replied, confidently, and hung up.

So… two days later I am at Urgent Care at the yet unnamed hospital in Seattle. (It was, is, K-P.) The Security Officer was there, but knew nothing about my laptop, had no instructions about the situation, had no solutions to my dilemma. Another Security Officer strolled by, overheard the conversation, said she knew about the situation, but said there was no laptop, no place where it was be locked up waiting for my pick up, etc. The two officers made some calls and gave me the following information: No laptop had ever been turned in to Security. There was nothing in the logbook or on the videos that record every movement when someone enters the lock up room. When I asked for a supervisor, I was told that Officer Francois who had been hired a few days ago IS the supervisor and was the supervisor on Tuesday, when I carelessly set down my laptop in my visual haze. No one was available to talk to me and they were very sorry, but they couldn’t be of any assistance. Before I went to my next medical appointment, I did manage to get the phone number of security at Urgent Care.

After my next appointment, I returned to Urgent Care where I was told no one from Security was allowed to talk to me. Then I went to the Reception Desk in the North Building, where the receptionist (whom I recognized from check in for my eye appointment two days before) told me she had retrieved my laptop from where I had set it down two days before, called security and that Security Officer Francoise had picked it up from her desk immediately.

Many phone calls later in the next few days netted nothing. No one was allowed to tell me anything. No laptop had been found. Finally on Sunday night, February 13, when I again phoned the Security Officer at Urgent Care, I told him he just had to tell me something. He did. He told me his name, that Officer Francois had just walked by, that no one knew anything about my laptop, except that it was missing, that the Supervisor for that shift was Officer Francois, and that he refused to speak to me.

Maybe twenty minutes later, I called again, spoke to the same Security Officer who said that Officer Francois had walked by, shouted that he was quitting, that he was leaving immediately in the middle of his shift right after he got checked out for his chest pains.

On Monday, February 14, when I realized I wasn’t getting my laptop back any time soon (if at all) I closed access to all financial accounts, my medical records and everything else that was personally important to me that I could close from another device. That meant that I did not have access to any of those things either, which was/is awkward as most only exist online. As I was currently involved in a complicated negotiation with insurance companies and two hospitals about an upcoming surgery, and everything is now done online, I was in Big Trouble on a tight deadline. Phone calls only direct one to websites or to helplines that direct one to websites. My back up on a ‘Time Machine’ was at home on Orcas Island. As was the little book I use to record my passwords.

Tech Hell is a place and that’s where I’ve been.

To be continued in Part 2: Tech Heaven

 

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