Life is good ! ?

I can’t help being struck by how much cheerier I feel today. For once I’m not feeling stressed out. I’m not worrying about my benefits for the moment. I dare say I will again when I hear about medicals, results of the latest application or the appeal to the previous one, the job-related activity interview, but for the moment I can relax. Even my health is doing better. I’ve had no abdominal pains for a few days, my knees ache but that is the normality of life & has been so for many many years. The Fox is cooking – a Thai chicken curry, hopefully a bit more successful than the meal we had at the Thai restaurant – so there’s nothing that has to be done today. The sun is even shining, the sky is blue – rare events these days. The Fox seems more relaxed too. Life is suddenly feeling good.

The only slight blot is that our neighbour, Dave, is once more in hospital. He spent months last year in the one at Blackpool due to heart problems. On Tuesday the ambulance was round once more. I had a chat with his wife, Fran, on Wednesday. He apparently started with a bad pain in his head which paracetamol couldn’t alleviate, followed by pains in his legs so he couldn’t walk, sit or stand unaided or without severe pain. It went on for over a week with numerous doctors’ visits. Eventually he started hallucinating.  At that point Fran decided it was time to see what the hospital said.

When he reached the hospital, it sounds as though he saw the same silly Chinese doctor I saw on my second visit to Accident & Emergency. She diagnosed my pancreatitis as a mild case of constipation. In Dave’s case, she decided as he is 71 & was vague on the dates in his medical history he must be suffering from dementia – actually he was just suffering so much discomfort he couldn’t think straight & even started to show the signs of a further heart attack due to the pressure & insensitivity she was showing him. Fran can’t help thinking if they could just sort out the cause of his pain, so he wasn’t on as much morphine, he would be mentally fine. He certainly was before the pain began. It goes to show what happens when you reach a certain age. He’s still not home, having been put in a geriatric ward!

Food & a film

I feel I should be writing about the film we saw yesterday, “Les Miserables” and the subsequent meal, however I’m drawn to write about today’s meal, Spicy Tortilla Lasagne.

I know it sounds rather odd but we have had it before & enjoyed it. I’m back to using up from the freezer, which always tends to mean digging up old favourites or doing some rather more imaginative recipes. This is one such.

The first item on my freezer contents list is half a packet of tortillas. The problem is that they have broken up over their stay in the freezer as items have been thrown on top. They’re far too broken up to use them as wraps. This recipe is the ideal solution.

Essentially the idea is to use tortillas instead of lasagne. So, I line the dish with a couple of tortillas, or what I guess is about 1½-2 tortillas. This I top with essentially a chilli con carne mix, then another tortilla (or rather a layer of tortilla crumbs), more chilli, another tortilla (crumbs in this case), more chilli. Come this evening I will add a topping of breadcrumbs & bung it all in the oven to warm up. A nice easy meal for supermarket shopping day, and a couple of fewer things in the freezer – the tortillas & some minced beef.

I suppose I know ought to return to yesterday. I have to admit that if we hadn’t seen the London stage performance of Les Mis I think I would feel quite differently about the film. Inevitably I made the mistake of comparing the two, or even three when I think of other non-musical films & the TV series starring Frank Finlay in 1967 based on the famous Victor Hugo novel. Personally I found the music fresher, the ending more poignant on stage. The film, though, did enable you to see the expression on the actors’ faces in the way you couldn’t on stage. Generally this was an advantage. The exception was in the case of Russell Crowe whose eyes seemed to be telling a different story from the tale he was telling. In this regard I think Anthony Perkins did the best job as Javier in his non-musical version of the tale. He caught the manic obsessionalism of the character in his eyes.

After the film we decided to try the Thai restaurant that opened in Morecambe a few years ago. We’d never been before. Usually we eat out with friends who are nervous of the idea of Thai food, or we are out of the town centre so tend to eat out of the town centre too.

We found the food disappointing – not exactly bad, just disappointing. We both tried a soup, the Fox going chicken while I went king prawn. We both were put out by the amount of inedible matter in the soup – bits of rock hard lemon grass, curry leaves, slices of hard root ginger, and in my case, the shells that still encased the prawns.

We followed it with a couple of stir fries, the Fox went for a spicy chicken & mushroom one, while I went for a sweet & sour chicken one. We both found our meal okay, but we found we were bored before we’d finished the quantity.

I suspect we won’t be going there again. If we do, we would certainly be choosing different dishes!

However, despite the disappointments, it made a very agreeable change from our normal routine & a bit of a morale boost. And ultimately that’s what we wanted & that’s what we found.

Change

I’m somewhat bemused. For months I’ve been writing on about our urge to get away for a break, a bit of a holiday, a pamper. Now the chance has come to do just so & the urge has largely evaporated.  Oh, I’m still keen to arrange something for the spring. I think we do need a change. But the immediate few days away is a different matter.

I’m trying to decide why things have changed. I’ve come up with some theories.

I suppose there’s the element of always wanting the impossible, that same urge that makes you want to step on the grass the moment you see the “Keep off the grass” sign. There have been so many things that had to be done, with hospitals & benefit claims. But they’re all done now, so the impossible is now possible & so less alluring.

Part of it is undoubtedly the weather. We were only thinking of going as far as Kendal for a night or two. Now the snow has gone away we’re once more back in the land of torrential rain. Although we’re only thinking of lazing around the hotel, doing a bit of shopping, maybe seeing old friends, dining at an old favourite restaurant, it doesn’t alter the fact all the above would be more pleasant in the dry. We know the area well so we’re not bothered about seeing the landscape at its best, we just don’t want to see it wet through, hard put to see it through rain spotted glasses & bedraggled dripping hair.

Though maybe it just comes down to the fact we’re planning a treat for ourselves, as the readers of the Fox’s blog will already know. We’re off to the cinema to see “Les Miserables” this afternoon. Then we’re going out for a meal. In other words we’re having a bit of a staycation as it’s fashionably called these days.

Part of it is the pressure we wanted to escape from has eased. I know I will get worked up once I have to go t the Jobcentre for this silly work-related interview, or I hear when I have to have the next ESA medical, but for the moment I can relax a bit, fall back into my comfortable rut.

Or maybe it’s just we’re able to dream a bit again, if only for a short while. Somehow, if you can dream, you can travel the world, and beyond it.  As I’ve said before, the ability to dream can make all the difference.

A long few days

It’s been an odd week.

On Wednesday the car disappeared off for its MOT. It failed – nothing unduly serious, the sort of thing that routinely needs to be done, new tyres, new brake pads etc.  We mentioned we were thinking of changing cars, but like everything else at the moment the actual getting to garages to look at what else was available was on hold. But in the end we rang back & authorised the repairs.

The car did not return that day.  We said we didn’t need it next day so the garage kept it to get the repairs & service done.

Thursday there was no word of progress. I was getting anxious as we’d left my wheelchair in the boot of the car, so I felt housebound. Admittedly with it being as cold as it has been of late, the temptation to go out wasn’t too great. I could always have gone on the Mean Machine, my mobility scooter.

Come Friday lunchtime I gave the garage a ring. The car was done. They would bring it back to us later that day.

By 5pm I was anxiously wondering whether to get on with dinner then or wait until the car had come back. I decided I could at least get started with prepping a few veg. I was just in the midst of slicing some mushrooms when the doorbell went. The car was back.

What is more the car looked resplendent. The colour of our car has a tendency to fade. Some panels definitely were looking shabby. Now the car was once more brilliantly coloured. 

The garage had been so alarmed by the thought of us selling the car, which they greatly love, that they’d decided to buff it up. That was the reason why it had taken so long. They’d only managed to get half the car done by Thursday evening.  They didn’t charge for the rebuff & are clearly hoping it will convince us to keep hold on to the car longer. It certainly looks as good as new, straight off the showroom floor. 

What they don’t seem to realise is that we were thinking of changing our 16 year old car, not because we were ashamed of  it’s appearance, but because it is rather large for our needs, & the Fox is finding it rather heavy to manoeuvre since he’s had his stroke.

Still we were relieved to have the car back as I had to get to the hospital on Saturday. For that I needed my wheelchair.

Friday had finally brought us a little snow, just enough to cover the ground. By Saturday morning, most of it had disappeared as the snow had changed to sleet & rain during the night. What remained by the morning had turned to ice. During the morning I watched anxiously the progress of people on the street. Pedestrians were very nervous as they tended to slip at every step, but cars didn’t seem to have any trouble. Nonetheless we thought it would be wise to set off to Lancaster early just to be on the safe side.

We soon discovered, once we were off our side street, the roads were clear. We had one of the fastest trips we’ve had for a long time. We arrived within half an hour. That meant a long wait as we were over half an hour early & then the appointment was over half an hour late.

Still the good news is that the MRI scan showed I was headed in the right direction. The lesion on my pancreas showed no sign of turning cancerous, so no ops would be necessary. I will have to stay off anti-inflammatory drugs probably for life. I also have to stay off alcohol for at least another 6 months, maybe longer.  The hospital will continue monitoring my progress with another appointment in about 6 month’s time, & another scan in about 9 month’s time.

We went off to a nearby pub to celebrate over a diet Coke.

Change of plans

As you may have realised from my last blog, we were hoping to get away for a few days this week.

Having finished on-line on, I get on to doing some of the telephoning chores I had to do.

Suddenly we had the car having its MOT & service today Wednesday. Needless to say that means no car to go anywhere, let alone on holiday. Still I thought we could go away on Thursday. We were only hoping for a couple of days

Then I ring the hospital to find out what had happened to the appointment to see Gastroenterology again for the results of the MRI scan, now some three weeks away, not the two I was told to expect.

They’d lost my notes. The person I finally got through to was horrified to realise that I hadn’t been sent an appointment. When she did finally re-find the file she discovered I was suppose to be returning after 6 weeks, which would have been a couple of weeks ago. Even allowing a delay while they were waiting for the MRI results I should have been seen by now. The appointments are made by a separate out-patient department. She gave them a right blasting & has arranged for me to have an emergency appointment on Saturday. Bang goes the few days away. Maybe next week….

I will be relieved to have gone to see this department of the hospital. The abdominal pains seem to be worsening again - not too severe so far but they are becoming more severe, more frequent and more long lasting - so I want to know what's happening. I'm clearly not entirely back to normal.

What a disappointment!

Last night we watched the first episode of “Father Brown” (BBC1 2.15pm) which we had recorded earlier in the week.

We both have fond memories of the character of Father Brown from the film, starring Alec Guiness & Peter Finch, the 1970’s series starring Kenneth More, and the original tales by G K Chesterton. So it was with some eager anticipation that we settled down to watch this series.

What a disappointment! We had wondered why this series was being shown in the afternoon throughout the week rather than in prime time in the evening. Now we know why.

This new portrayal of the character lacks any charisma, any impression of shrewdness & great insight into people and what makes them ticks. Also all humour is lost, too. Carrying around a furled umbrella at all times is not enough to indicate the eccentricity of the man. Instead the strong thread of Catholicism is rammed home to the watcher. All a bit much for us.

We had recorded all the rest of the week’s episodes & were intending to record the rest of the series. Instead we’ve scrapped the lost in disgust.

Anticlimax

The form is done. We posted it Wednesday. Now we wait.

Our thoughts turn to the idea of a few days away.  We’re thinking of a couple of days in Kendal. It’s not far away but sufficient for us to get away from our everyday worries & concerns. A bit of a pamper would do us both good, someone else to do the work while we relax.

Then we hear the weather warnings - snow is on our way, heavy snow at that. The hotel we’re thinking of trying to stay in is at the top of the hill overlooking the town, not the easiest place to get to if it snows. Or for that matter to get from once we’re there.

We decide we’d best leave going away a bit longer. Besides we had food that needed to be eaten soon or it would go off. We hate waste. I’m also on my pills that have to be taken in the middle of the night. That inevitably means I tend to be overtired, not in the best of moods for a break.

So come Friday, I venture off for some fish on the Mean Machine, my mobility scooter. I went first thing, before 9am in the hope of beating the expected snow.

By the afternoon, no sign of snow. The evening, none. There was the odd flake but the sort you missed if you blinked or didn’t look very carefully. So now we seem to be in the only area of Britain that isn’t white. It’s bitterly cold but not white. We feel vaguely cheated after all the warnings, as though we’re the only ones not invited to the party.

We were quite looking forward to seeing the world transformed by a coating of white. We know our enthusiasm wouldn’t last long but then hopefully the show wouldn’t last long either. Instead all remains resolutely grey as usual. And we should have gone away after all. Maybe we’ll get going this week….

.

Nearly done

The freeze continues. Today’s temperature has risen up to just -9˚C.  Everything is looking white – roofs, cars, lawns, shrubs. I’ve decided the time has come to put the central heating on throughout the day.

Hopefully this afternoon we will finally get that benefit form done. I find it’s impossible to do much at a time. It’s too depressing. It is only this time of filling it in, that I’ve realised I’m really not able to go out on my own any longer. I can’t go any distance on foot or by pushing myself along the pavement. Driving unaccompanied is not on as I tend to drop off to sleep at the steering wheel.

The only time I do get out by myself is when I get out the Mean Machine (my electric mobility scooter). But that is only feasible on a good day, both from the point of view of my health and dependent on the weather.

Maybe the rarity of being out on my own is part of the reason why I appreciate those little outings so much. I’d always put it down to the fact that is one of the few opportunities to be out in the fresh air for any length of time, to feel a bit of breeze on my face, to encounter strangers with a cheery hello, to see something different from my home surroundings.

That’s not to say we don’t get out at all, but our usual trips involve a drive, followed by a quick dash into a building.

Still the form is nearly done. We’re hoping to go away for a few days once it’s posted off. We’re not thinking of going far, just a change of scene. Then hopefully I’ll be able to put my mind to other things, write about something more cheery than ill-health, disability and benefits.

Oh so cold!

I’m sitting here, a hot mug of tea by my side. I’ve just been out to the freezer for today’s meat – sausages & black pudding for breakfast-for-dinner for tonight’s meal. My hands are frozen. I need something to warm them around, to thaw my fingers out.

Outside the temperatures are well below freezing point. The roofs at the other side of the street remain white with frost. The thermometer attached to the garden shed has gone up from -10˚C to the dizzying heights of -8˚C. Cold indeed.

I’m not the only one feeling the cold. At the moment the blackbirds are going through a fat ball a day. One seems to sit there for quarter of an hour at a time, just gorging himself.  I half-expect one of these days he will be so stuffed he won’t be able to fly off. Meanwhile another blackbird sits on the trellis above, head turning a full 360 degrees, keeping an eye out for predators, while he waits his turn in the pecking order.

I don’t begrudge them the food. They give us so many hours of entertainment over the course of the year, as well as doing a much better job of slug & snail control than pellets ever did.

But I do long for warmer weather. Unfortunately that doesn’t sound as though it will be coming very soon.

Grey

It’s a dark morning. I couldn’t really believe it was 8am when that time arrived. Last night it had been snowing. It didn’t seem to be sticking – the ground was too wet.

 I was under no illusion the world would be white when I got up today. It was just too dark. Snow magnifies any light & there just didn’t seem to be any light to magnify. I was right.

Instead we have damp drizzly rain - and greyness. All snow has been washed away.

The Fox’s health has picked up. Indeed he seems to be full of vigour. He’s been sitting down to tackle my benefit form. We went through a bit together on Saturday. He’s been working on it by himself yesterday. We’ll both probably try to get together again this afternoon.We’ll both be mightily relieved when the form is done & sent off.

We will be going out at some point. Our prescriptions are due to be collected. With the weather forecasts of more snow, we want to make sure we have all our medicines in case it gets too bad for us to risk venturing out for a few days.

A quiet morning

I’m having a quiet morning. The Fox was decidedly off-colour yesterday.

At first he was fine. We got off to the fish shop. Entry to the road the shop is on was closed. There had been a big fire there earlier in the week, sufficient to get onto the BBC local news website. As a result we had a bit of a walk (push of me).

As the afternoon progressed the Fox became increasingly shivery. He couldn’t keep his hand still. He tried going on the computer but couldn’t control the mouse. I felt him &, to me, he seemed to be burning up. He reckoned it’s just that I was so frozen anything would seem hot. I think he was feverish.

Come dinnertime, I set about cooking the cod we’d bought. We had a starter of some Morecambe Bay potted shrimps on toast. The Fox struggled through eating them – had difficulty with swallowing. The pot I had, though, was as sweet & juicy as ever, a real treat.

I was relieved to think at least fish should be easy to swallow and digest. So we came to the cod, baked on a bed of onion & tomato. The Fox tried one mouthful. Same result – dry, tasteless, acidic. He abandoned it & wandered off to the lounge. I finished my meal, had some of his fish.

All evening he looked & felt poorly.

It was with some relief I see this morning he obviously opened a tin of soup after I went to bed. Hopefully he managed that so maybe he felt a bit better later on.

So this morning, I’m taking it quiet in case I need my energies to look after him. I certainly don’t see any point in preparing food if he’s not going to be up to eating it. For myself I would just get something delivered by one of the local takeaways. 

I’m just hoping he’s going to be brighter than yesterday. I don’t think it’s going to be anything too serious, a mild bout of flu perhaps. But fingers crossed ….

The letter

Oh great! The post has just arrived. My sense of well-being and reverie in a beautiful world has just dissolved. I’ve got a letter from Jobcentreplus with my first appointment to meet my Personal Adviser.

I gather I must attend or lose my benefit (ESA). I gather I can bring someone with me, but they discourage this as space is tight.

They can discourage this as much as they like but someone is going with me. I won’t even be able to make it to the Job Centre without the Fox driving me there. Apart from the risk of dropping off to sleep at the steering wheel if I drive myself unaccompanied, the actual Job Centre is in a building located on an island encircled by very busy roads. The island has no car parks. There’s no way I could push myself in a wheelchair from the nearest car park to that building. The terrain is too uneven, the distance too far, the road to cross too dangerous to cross at what would be my very slow speed. As for walking it, that would take me all morning if I ever managed it and I would be in agony for a month or more afterwards.

I’m telling myself, maybe this adviser can come up with some job/training I could do. I can’t imagine what.

If she can’t, as I suspect will be the case, maybe she will be able to provide extra evidence to support my view I should be in the Support group, not the Work-related group for benefits.

I fear the reality will be she will have some idea for a job that she thinks I can do but for which I am physically & mentally unable. I will be expected to run myself totally into the ground, into a state of complete collapse, in extreme pain, shattered with exhaustion.

We’ll soon find out.

A grey curtain

The mist swirled round all day yesterday. Sometimes you could see a distance; other times everything hid behind a greyish curtain of dampness.

In the afternoon we did our weekly visit to the supermarket to top up the food stores. Afterwards we went along to Snatchems for a drink and a relax before heading home for dinner.

Yesterday, most of the time, you couldn’t see across the River Lune to the far bank. Just occasionally it stood out, rearing from the limpid waters.

As the afternoon went on, lights started to appear in the grey curtain. We knew it was time to make our way home.

As we went along the road we were struck by a couple of things. Firstly how light it still was. When we had come this way before Christmas, by this time it was pitch black – there’s no street lights along this country lane. Now we had the lights on the car more to be seen than to see.

The other thing was the sheer beauty of the ever changing landscape. As the mist swirled around the world kept changing.

At times the skeletal shape of trees stood out all the darker & more defined by the pale curtain behind that covered over any other distracting features.

It’s almost disappointing to discover today the mist has gone away. Once more we’re back to grey and bland. The light is flat. There’s just a hint of blueness in the sky so maybe it will brighten up as the day goes on. At least it’s staying dry for which I am truly thankful.

One down, two to go

The world is hidden behind a curtain of mist today. As the morning has gone on, little by little, the garden on one side, the street on the other, have slowly emerged. Everything still remains in soft focus.

I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to get to grips with this benefit form. I’ve finally completed a draft I’m fairly content with. Now, I wait to see if the Fox thinks I’ve done a reasonably good job of it before pen is actually put to paper.

I’ve come to the conclusion my next jobs are:

1.    To write a my medical history

2.    To continue to read up on the law concerning Employment and Support Allowance (ESA)

One of the things that struck me at the last medical for ESA, is how impossible it is to remember exact dates of diagnoses etc when some of them were made 20 years ago. Somehow I was expected to remember when every op took place, every overdose happened. I’ve come to the conclusion that in future I’ll make a list which I can then easily update as matters change. I can then do a print out before the medical & have something to refer to, instead of trying to rack my brains.

Similarly I suspect I will get the same result from this application for ESA as I did for the last one. I feel it is important to get myself as conversant with the law, ready for an appeal.

I’m even contemplating writing a letter of complaint to my MP. As far as I can see the process seems unfair. I know I am unfit for any work yet I still suspect they will decide I should be in the Work-related Activity Group which would mean my benefit will be means tested within 12 months. I also can’t get away from the cynical feeling that this second form was sent as a means of overturning any tribunal decision in my favour that the appeal may have resulted in. If they continue to do this every few months, the year will have passed with me in the Work-related Activity Group, unable to get an appeal in & for any decision on the appeal to have any duration, with the result I will end up being means tested.

Although we do have some capital behind us, which we use for luxuries such as holidays & good quality food, and to cover emergencies such as buying a new fridge when the old one died, the money we receive from state benefits is more or less our sole income. We know that once you start spending capital on everyday living expenses, it can quickly disappear. We also know, short of winning the National Lottery or Euromillions, we will probably not have the opportunity to re-build up any capital.

We had hoped to keep that capital for the future, as we can already see we will probably have to pay a high price for the care we will need as we become increasingly decrepit with age. If we have to go into a home, which is also probable as we have no children or other family living near us who can look after us, we would like to have the option of choosing a place we think we could be happy in rather than the cheapest place the council can find.

It certainly makes you wonder what the point of saving is. We wondered this when the Fox’s parents had to go into a care home. They had spent their lives working every hour they could, doing without so many things, in order to own their home and have something to leave their children, but now that home had to be sold to cover the fees of this not-very-nice care home, while others who had spent their money in riotous living, having cars, frequent holidays, the latest fashions & technology, were paid for by the state. It just seems so iniquitous.

Time out

I started the day with a phone call to Welfare Rights. The Fox had pointed out the letter I received on Thursday did state I was to fill in the Employment & Support form if I was in receipt of Incapacity Benefit or Severe Disablement Allowance, neither of which I any longer receive. I had had my first ESA payment earlier this week.

Welfare Rights confirmed what I had been told the day before was wrong. They certainly would not require I newly filled questionnaire for the purposes of the appeal. It is strange I should have been sent another form so soon. They suspected the form had been sent by mistake. They gave me the phone number for ATOS, the organisation to which the form is sent.

I rang ATOS. No, they don’t why I was sent the form but I should go ahead & fill it in anyway. They were not responsible for sending out the forms. That was the Department of Work & Pensions (DWP). I asked if there was any means to discover if the form was sent by mistake as filling in all these forms is taking quite a toll on me. They gave me the phone number for the DWP.

I rang the DWP. They concluded the reason why I had been sent the form was because the ATOS doctor I had seen in October had given me a 3 month prognosis, so they needed to know how I was after that.

I blew up. I apologised to the person who I was talking to at the other end of the phone as I realised it wasn’t her personally, but this is just plain stupid. I had only just posted the appeal to the previous decision the day before. The medical conditions stopping me from seeking work, I have had now for over 20 years. In all that time my health has just deteriorated as further problems have arisen due to my lack of mobility & active healthy life. How on earth was I supposed to improve in just 3 months? Still it seems I must fill in the form again. They have noted my comments.

I then settled down to my ironing. As I did I thought over what was said. There seems no way to question the doctor’s prognosis. The more I thought, I couldn’t help thinking the doctor probably wrote something to the effect that the pancreatitis I gained this year should be under control within 3 months. And that is all the DWP saw. But to me, the pancreatitis is hopefully a temporary blip which will come under control soon and cause me no more subsequent bother than the Chronic Kidney Disease I have. It is the problems with my knees & depression that are the reasons why work is an impossibility, not the pancreatitis.

As I finished the ironing & went to boot up the computer to get to work with the form, the Fox suggested why don’t why we go out for a change. It was dry, if overcast. The car could do with a run. So we decided to go over to Arnside, our old stomping ground where we lived for over twenty years. So we did.

Arnside has changed a lot in some ways since we left 13 years ago. It seems to be prospering. Our favourite pub, the Albion, has extended with a large restaurant. Access for wheelchairs has improved considerably. Gaz, the former manager of the Pub, is now manager here & greeted us with friendly abuse. We talked to an Arnsider born & bred who we recognised by sight & reminisced about former friends and acquaintances. Altogether it was a real breath of fresh air, a chance to put some perspective into life. We came home much refreshed in body – we had lunch at the Albion, which sells good food these days unlike it did in our days there - & soul.

One thing I can’t help wondering is if it is worth pursuing my ESA appeal any more. Any decision is only going to be overturned by the decision made on this application. The one good thing making the appeal has done is to jolt me into discovering what the criteria are for ESA so this time I can tweak the form to them, bring out the relevance of what I am saying, add some things which hadn’t seemed strictly relevant before. It’s not so much a case of lying or making up things, rather of bringing out the implications which a non-disabled person would not realised were there. Maybe this time they will come to the right decision first time. I hope so. I certainly don’t think I can cope with these forms every few months.

Disbelief

I can’t believe it!

The post has brought me yet another Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) form to be filled in before the end of the month.

Staggered, I rang the given number to check if I really had to fill it in again.

I explained I only posted the appeal to the decision made at the end of November yesterday. Surely I don’t have to fill the same form in again.

I was re-directed to another department. They suspect it’s been sent out as I have notified them I am going to appeal so they need to see the form. I couldn’t help thinking why not just copy the form they already had. It won’t be up to date enough they reckon. I’ll have to fill in the form again.

Thank goodness I kept a copy of the previous form. Most of it I can just write in again, though I might make a few tweaks now I have a clearer understanding of the legal requirements for entitlement for this benefit. I will also update on my medical condition as now I have a diagnosis of pancreatitis & there’s also the breast bleeding to add.

And to think we had been beginning to relax a bit, thinking we wouldn’t hear anything more for a few weeks! We even popped into the travel agents for a few holiday brochures, thinking we would try & escape to the sun once we’d got the MRI scan results – as if we will be able to go away with these forms coming every few weeks and needing to be returned promptly or risk losing the benefit!

Is it never to end? Life doesn’t seem worth living if this is what it’s going to be for the next 8+ years, until I reach retirement age. There certainly won’t be much quality about it. Holidays of more than a couple of days will be out of the question. No chance to really relax which I need to do for both my physical & mental well-being. The Fox, too, needs a relax. Being a full-time carer is no easy task. He’s already had one stroke. I don’t want him to have another. Despair is already setting in, only partly offset by my anger over the situation.

Into the new year

The New Year is here and it rains once more. Is there no end to it?

However, some good things have already happened.

Firstly, & this is a great source of relief, is that I’ve finally managed to complete my statement of reasons for the appeal. It all sits in an envelope, ready to be posted when we go out later today.

 Now we just have to wait & see what they say. I can relax a bit. The pressure is off until I hear the result. I feel I should succeed as I have made a good legal case, citing legislation & precedent. Thank goodness for my legal training at university 40 odd years ago. You never know when it will come in useful.

Then we had a very pleasing phone call from an old friend. It’s always good to chat with friends, especially when they’re such long-established ones as this one. Malcolm we both met at university 40 odd years ago. Indeed he introduced us to each other.

This friend mentioned his wife had sent us an e-mail, which I hastily read. It was a lovely warm one, full of love and good wishes. In the process I also discovered we’d got an e-mail from some friends we'd met on our Rhine cruise holiday in 2011. They live near Cardiff, rather a distance away to meet up much. It seems they’re intending to come up to Lancaster July time so hopefully we can meet up – something to look forward to.

So maybe 2013 is going to be a mixed year, with some good at least, some happy moments. Much I suspect is going to depend on health and benefit problems.

This morning I’ve got a curry plopping away. We’re both looking forward to some spice. We’ve not had much since before Christmas. The Fox did make a spicy spag bol last Sunday but that’s it.

When I first suggested I used up yet more left over turkey today, the Fox’s reaction was a deep sigh & “Not more turkey! I’ll be spitting feathers next.” I looked at my list of freezer contents. The next item was cooked chicken so I did suggest I made a chicken & vegetable pie, though I couldn’t help thinking it was still poultry & I knew the Fox is intending to do Chicken à la King tomorrow. Then I suddenly thought why don’t I make a curry with the turkey. The idea of turkey suddenly appealed to the Fox when he knew it was to be curried. It will be the last of the turkey for a while. The rest can remain in the freezer for the moment.