Monday, 5 March 2012

Half an hour of my life.......

Today I tried to ring DWP about the ongoing saga of changing benefits.

First call - 11 minutes only to be short-called by the person on the phone when I get through!  You know; pick up, put down thus disconnecting the call.  Call volume looks fantastic on your stats - shame you just piss so many people off!

Second call - 8 minutes to get though to someone nice, get though the checks only to find I am through to the WRONG department and she  has to transfer me.  OK but I am dumped into the queue for the correct department, no handshake so I will have to go through the checks all over again when I get through.  A further 20 minutes later I lost the will to live and disconnected the call. They cannot give me the direct dial number for the appropriate team as apparently it is classified above top secret or some such shit.

I now have to try again tomorrow to get through to the correct department an try to find out what is happening - or not.

I just want to know what is happening.  It's not rocket science.  A letter, a call - SOMETHING!!!

I feel like I am shouting into an abyss - there is no echo.  The silence is deafening.  I am so stressed with this on so many grounds it is just not funny.

I am about to pick up my stabby knife and go stab, stab, stabbity-stab (not really, its just a measure of my frustration).  It's 30 minutes of my ill and unemployed life I will never get back.

Time for bed.....

Sunday, 19 February 2012

Life with no money

At the outset of this I am standing up and saying in no way is this an attack on the two people who hold my power of attorney for my financial affairs.

I have an enduring power of attorney in place to allow others to manage my money as I am incapable of doing so.  When the POA went into place I was about 7.5k in debt and sinking.  As of now that figure is reducing nicely for which I cannot thank them enough.

Due to the lack of progress on the Incapacity Benefit to Employment and Support Allowance front (see previous post) and the possibility of the little amount of money I have coming on being stopped completely, my trustees have had to take some radical action to make sure that I have some money to cover the essentials in that case.

This has led to me having no spending money - not even enough for a postage stamp.  I am not allowed to buy my own food but have to survive on the food given to me. This consists of 12 tins of baked beans, 12 tins of own brand spaghetti, two jars of Value coffee, 4 jars of Value strawberry jam, 6 loaves of Value wholemeal bread, 1kg margarine and a small amount of cheese.  The electric is paid for me from my money and I have to think about everything I do - like hot water, washing machine, dishwasher and heating. I also get 8 rolls of toilet paper.  I have enough in my bathroom at the moment to last me till July at the earliest!

The monotonous diet is making me ill leading one friend to go and buy me some food to vary my diet.  Believe me, waking up nauseous and ill and staying that way for days is no fun.  There isn't much choice in either either diet or financial options.

Until the whole situation with DWP is resolved (ie I am on the support group) I will have to exist like this.  I have no money for hobbies, no reason to go out and if I do, no money for travel or even a snack if I feel ill while I am out.  It is frustrating and miserable.

I have a letter from my psychiatrist confirming I am not fit to work and exactly how poor my state of health is. I have a letter from an OT confirming exactly the same and that I need help in physical care.  I am on the waiting list for Social Services which will take another 8 months.  What more proof do they need except me in a coffin?  Don't get me wrong - I love to work, I miss it horribly, I miss the camaraderie, I miss the structure of working life.  Most of all I miss my independence.

February position

This is a post I am not proud of and at the moment I feel quite desperate so I'm letting it out here.  I've procrastinated about writing it for fear of being seen as whiny, selfish, begging, self-pitying, accusatory etc.
A lot of emotions and none of them good.

I'm in the process of having my benefits changed, not through choice but due to the diktat of another Government minister wishing to reduce the number of disabled in the system and reduce fraud. It's been rumbling about for several years but the process is being speeded up now as per the schedule.

The only thing is that this is a deeply flawed, cynical and discriminatory process being administered by a private company employing 'health professionals' to assess claimants. The process is basically tick boxes at the end of which you pass or fail.  These 'professionals' opinions override those of your GP or specialists who actually deal with you regularly. They assess your fitness to work on the basis of one 20 minute interview and filling in a computerised form that you cannot see.  Sadly these bear little or no relevance to reality.  This has led to the current situation of terminally ill cancer patients being declared for for work and in one spectacular case a man in a coma being told he was fit to work.  So far 16 people have committed suicide as they can no longer cope with the pressures of trying to live on benefits that have been cut often by up to 50%.  These are not malingerers but with genuine diagnosed serious medical conditions.

I'm in this system and suffering badly now.  The 'assessment centre' is 10 miles away.  I have no transport so I have to rely on others or public transport to get there.  On buses (two each way) it is a minimum 90 minute journey each way.  I'm lucky in that I have a bus pass so get free transport but its still hellish.

I've now had three appointments for the assessment. First one I got over there and got turned away as they were running late.  They also said they'd tried to call me to let me know.  They hadn't.  My mobile was with me and switched on and when my landline was checked when I returned home, there hadn't been a received call on it for 3 days!

Appointment number 2, mea culpa, I had to cancel as I had no transport and was ill. So I made appointment 3 for 29th December at 11.20.  On the day, I rang to cancel as I had no transport and had a viral infection only to be advised that my benefits were likely to be stopped.  I rang them back 20 minutes later and said I would go but would be late and could they advise the centre which they agreed to do.  I went up to get the first bus.  I was waiting almost 30 minutes in the cold for the bus.  I forgot they were on the 'special' service which means basically there is no timetable.  I got there 20 minutes late and was turned away by the rude sisters behind the desk The call centre had not passed on the message and I could not leave any paperwork for them to look at. I then had to get home again and I was already feeling exhausted, cold and sick. I finally got home and collapsed into bed with the start of a viral infection that lasted three weeks.

I also got a letter telling me that as I had 'failed to turn up' I needed to explain myself to the Department of Work and Pensions by 8th January. I filled in the form and posted it back along with a letter explaining the situation and enclosing my bus tickets as proof.

There then followed silence.  Silence that has continued since then and is still continuing 6 WEEKS later.  I'm ringing them weekly to check on what is happening to little effect.  My form and letter have gone walkabout despite being in their own reply paid envelope.  I called and called about this and finally someone from processing called and I explained to them what was happening and she has noted this and passed it to the decision maker.  Still there is this ominous, pervasive silence.

I still have no new medical date, no contact from the assessors and no contact from the DWP.  I'm stuck in this vile limbo with no end in sight.  All for the sake of change for changes sake and the vilification of the weakest in society.

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Why do I have this third blog?  Well this on is to vent the frustrations of being chronically sick and having to deal with attittudes and suppositions.

I have mental and physical health problems.  All of mine are invisible illnesses.  The only way you would guess I am ill is that I walk with a stick.  

I have ME/CFS which is what finally stopped me from be a tax payer.  I was getting sicker and sicker with the physical and mental effort required in getting to work, moving around the site and concentrating on work.  This was a pretty bitter blow because I liked my job but loved the social side of it. Falling asleep at my desk was normal, being unable to continue a task once started and interrupted, trying to be a part of a superb team where I was the one being carried and making the most horrendous and serious mistakes.  I was a liability.

With the ME, I have a whole slew of symptoms including constant pain, an inability to stay awake, inability to concentrate  ibs, delayed  fatigue after exercise, disordered and unrefreshing sleep, problems with my blood pressure on standing, inability to stand for any amount of time, dizziness, nausea, balance problems etc. I come in on the moderate/severe scale in ME/CFS terms.  I've also dealt with this for over 20 years.

I've also had a lot of surgery on my knees that have left me unable to kneel or squat.  I also have early stage osteoarthritis which is at its worst in my hands and knees.

I have chronic brittle asthma which has on occasion hospitalised me but is now pretty well controlled by the latest generation of drugs.

On top of this I have what has been diagnosed as treatment resistant depression.  This is held in check by a high dose of anti depressant.  I have been treated using Acceptance and Commitment Therapy but when under stress all the bad thoughts come back to me.

Finally a little over a year ago I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder also known as Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder.  This diagnosis has finally broken me. It explained why I behave as I do, why people either love me or loathe me, why everything I have ever wanted in life had been out of reach.  I can't explain it fully because it is too much for me to even try to.  I'm now 48 - had I been diagnoses 30 years ago, my life would have been far more productive and less destructive  Enough said.

Anyway, more to come from misery corner soon