h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

It took a long time coming, did December 1st, but it was worth all the waiting and gibber, I think, on balance. Well, for me, personally, that is; but it was still one hell of a wait

I made my third application for DLA in late December last year. The claim date is (I believe) 3rd January, which is the day the Powers That Be received it, anyway.

I'd applied twice before; one (which I'm sure I mentioned in the summer of 2004 - which was turned down flat) and another one, in summer of 2005; I was examined by a GP who I shall refer to as Dr Snotface in August of that year, and for sheer callousness, disregard for basic human decency the guy would take the serious biscuit. In short, he was an obnoxious get who was not my favourite sort of person.

On the strength of his report I was turned down, again, flat.

I really wanted to give up, but I knew if I didn't claim agin (I was too dispirited to make an appeal in the time scale allocated) I would be in too weak a case to ever do it again.

I wanted to curl up in the corner and die, but I'm a stubborn old bezom and I do hate injustices like this; if I were being mardy, or trying it on, I wouldn't have minded, but my blood absolutely *boiled* at the thought of Dr Snotface's Spanish Inquistion tactics on people even more weak and vulnerable than me was a damned good impetus to kick up a stink. If I'm going down, I decided, I'm taking that with me.

So I applied again, with a lot of help, support and friendly organisation from the Area Benefits Officer and one of her colleagues.

Now, current legislation states that if you re apply for DLA within a year of being declined, they can use the last EMO's (Executive Medical Officer's) report; so I had to disprove Dr Snotface's findings, because thats what they used.

So thats what I set out to do

I began to amass a large body of paper evidence from my new GP, the pain clinic nurse, the chiropractor and a hell of a lot of righteously indignant essays from me.

(I think I may well have amassed a serious tree's worth of paper in the last year)

Its been miserable, stressful and downright disheatening. And because I was concentrating so much on the DLA I fell foul of the Local Council and got into a tizz with my Housing Benefits; I contacted my local MP, and somehow or the other - don't ask how, because I don't know - he volunteered to represent me at my DLA Appeal

So the "Paper Hearing" in October was cancelled at his behest and a face to face Appeal arranged.

And today was that day

I wasn't looking forward to it, and I've been feeling like poo on a stick with pain (and nerves, I must admit)

In this year alone I've had 5 operations and gawd knows how many outpaitents' check ups and tests; infact, I have another 2 this next week alone, so I'm not exactly Queen of the May in oomph or morale.

Its tiring and debilitating with just them to contend with. I could have done without having to jaunt to Margate on a cold, damp, m-i-s-e-r-a-b-l-e sort of a day when frankly the back is crucifying me, the hands and feet are screaming blue murder at me; the tummy is Playing Up big time and I'm not so much having a Bad Hair Day as a Bad Hair Year.

But Wendy the Witch came up trumps and drove me over, and we hung around looking like 2 frozen old pouter pigeons outside the Magistrates Court wating for my Representative to arrive.

Which he did, bang on time.


I've never been inside a court before; I had visions of old men in wigs and lots of M'Ludding.

It may well have been like that, downstairs. Stupidly enough, the Disability Hearings room is on the 2nd floor.

So I got the lift with the other 2

My MP briefed me, and went thru a few details like (trans) You mustn't slag off the EMO; leave that to me, alright?

And : I understand that you think the System Stinks, but you mustn't say it in so many words - Promise me you won't. Thats my job.

And: Don't get defensive and bite their heads off if you think they're asking you stupid questions. At this point Wendy butted in and said "And don't *look* like you think they're asking stupid questions either


Deary me, how openly transparent I must be.


At 10.00am we were ushered in. 2 Ladies - the Chairman and a "Lay" Observer and a rather obese gentleman doctor. Lecture me on diet mate, I thought to myself, and I'll have to use disdainful silence.

The MP made the representation, explaining just how proud potentially disabled people can be, and how they'd rather make light of the situation rather than admit their failings.

Then came the Questions; the Chairman asked the legal sort of questions, and the basic "history" - she went thru the original EMO's appraisal, and though I say it myself, I handled it well. I explained quite calmly that I found his questionning technique very aggressive and insensative when it came to "tummy habits".

My eldest, who had just turned 18 was my chaperone that day, and he said, quite clearly at the time "Mum, I can see you're really not confortable talking about this infront of me - I'm going outside of the room while you tell Dr (Snotface) about your bum. Call me back after you've done"

As I was explaining this, and trying to use the educated words rather than the Son's terminolgy, I was absolutely mortified to find my voice quavered a bit; I was on the brink of tears - and also very very angry - how *dare this insenstive oaf of a jumped up GP then had the termerity to tell me that he was going to disregard the information I gave him when my son had left the room to spare my dignity

So I told them, very simply, how I had felt during that interview, and how defensive I had become with Dr Snotface as a result. No bluff, no defensiveness, and no sentiment.

And it was the Lay Observer (who is herself disabled) who poured me a glass of water and shoved the tissues at me.

I nearly cracked; but I didn't, and I'm glad I didn't. It would have been a mortifying inconvenience I could do without.

Then we got the medical questions; and its no problem to me to discuss *any aspect of *any ailment with non involved adults. Its not easy really to discuss the more intimate details of bowel behaviour - one does prefer to have a little mystery, after all, but needs must when the devil drives, and I needs musted Alright.

I can still look Wendy in the face, and she me, so thats OK.

I doubt I'll ever meet the others again, so thats OK, too.

More questions from the Lay Person - she asked me how I coped "generally" with life, and I sort of shrugged and said "I work around the bits I can do and I've learned to ask for help with the bits I can't any more. After a time, what might seem odd to outsiders becomes normal to me and mine"

Eventually, the questions came to an end and we were asked to go out of the room whilst they came to a decision. I took the opportunity to hand a little present and thankyou card to the MP; and before he'd unwrapped it, we were called back in.

I've been awarded High Rate Mobility (maximum allowance) and Low Rate Personal Care component "indefinately", and it will be backdated to the date of my claim.

Which in a nutshell means:


(a) A Year's back pay


and, even better


(b) No more bloody horrible forms to fill in, ever again, unless I need to claim for a higher rate of Personal Care. Or at least, not for the DLA, anyway. Not whilst I can be recalcitrant and stubbornly independent.


I did cry then - but only after we'd walked out of the room, and it was sheer relief rather than mortified boohooing.

Son no 1 has just come up behind me and gave me a hug whilst I was typing this and remarked my shoulder muscles felt really "good and loose for a change" mum.

What does this mean for me?

Well... it means the ability to have transport - and decent transport at that. I love my little Witchmobile, but its held together with chewing gum and string, and there's no way I can really afford to run it; now I can afford to run a healthy car - which means I can travel easier and more reliably

Its probably cruel of me, but I shall give my car to the boys to learn to drive in. If they can drive that, they can drive anything.

It means that I can pay off all my debts, and still have enough to treat the lads to something half decent for a change...I've wanted, for so long to take them to the theatre, do a show a have a nice meal with them both; and now I can do that. Derren Brown looks a favourite.

It means I can get back to regular chiropractice which helps me tremendously, and afford to keep the treatments going, so I *may well improve gradually. Or if I don't improve, at least I can keep the problems under control

It means that I can have a modest holiday - a complete break from every day life every so often. I intend to go on a 3 day Spa Holiday when I get my back pay and have done all the necessary debt removals.

And even when I've taken all my friends out for a nice evening, (not all in one whack - I'd prefer to spread that fun out a bit) to say thank you to them for being such incrediably loyal, staunch friends and giving me so unstintingly their time, support and affection, I shall still have enough in the bank to feel financially secure for the first time in over a decade. I probably don't *need an awful lot financially to feel secure, but to know that I will have - at last - a full month in hand's living expenses at any one time feels indescribably good as far as I'm concerned.

It means a lot to me in general.

And frankly, I think this particular 1st December was well worth the wait and grief and stress.


Especially as now the MP really understands how unsuitable my current dwelling is, and is more than willing to pressurise the council into rehousing me, once I have the official paperwork from the DLA


Definately a result

And who needs to wait until the 25th of this month to know that Christmas exists?

I don't.

I shall wait until the January Sales instead and celebrate in absolute spades.

Hi Evadne, hope you don't mind but I popped over from Skanky's xmas wish thread. I have a big smile on my face after reading that, I'm so pleased it all worked out for you!

It's nice to know the system can work.

Evadne,

*tears in my eyes*. What a brave lady and you would never guess you were going through all that from your other posts.

As for <> well that's par for the course. Our Lung investigation unit is up two floors too, and the Neuro 'something or other' likewise when people can barely breathe or walk.

I am SO SO happy for you. How you can make such a gruelling year long episode in to something funny I just don't know - you could even run it at the WI .

Enjoy all the pluses you now have, and oh, what a lovely son you have - so understanding. Give him a special please.

I am tired and vowed I wasn't going to reply to any threads tonight but I just had to with this one, you made me feel so humble.

Talk to you soon you you. Well done for not ing all over the place and keeping your .


Websailor

Hiya Webbie - and welcome Elentari, too, whilst I remember

>>What a brave lady and you would never guess you were going through all that from your other posts<<

Brave? No; just stubborn with a general "Up Yours" attitude, I think! I would cheerfully murder small burocratic bulling types - there's something about their existence that I find totally, utterly and completely personally offensive.

I didn't like 'em much befre I became a bit frail...and I've had some stonking confrontations with little A88eholes like them before - why change the habit of a lifetime, eh?

>>would never guess you were going through all that from your other posts<<

no, probably not, but then, I just find it incrediably boring and depressing to moan! And if I'm writing about other stuff then I find I can forget whats happening to the person who's typing it, if that makes sense.

You're right about my sons though - they're a pair of little diamonds; they've nagged, chivvied, and heckled me into not falling flat onto the floor in a pool of whinge many a time; they've brought their more respectable friends around as babysitters for me, and I've become friends with a crowd of late teens and early twenties.

As equals, almost. Without that crowd of apparent long haired layabouts (Yoof of Today Slagging Brigade) doing my errands, my housework and a couple of mortifying occasions a couple of the lads girlfriends, both built like elves hauling me out of the bath where I'd got stuck I don't know what I'd have done, really.

My sons have found me hobbies and interests. Example

"Mum, if you don't cheer up and get yourself sorted I'm going to be forced to take you to Bingo - *then where will your street cred be? Eh?

I think I would have fallen apart without them and the support from my Off Screen friends (you'd love em - if you think the humours a bit graveyard on the Crippling Thread, then you'd just *love* the scenarioes we share off screen - what one can't do comedically with an incontinence pads, for example, doesn't bear thinking about

And the people here have been pretty good too - I'm not a great one for lots of on screen affection-y type stuff, and hearts and flowers but I do appreciate them. And although I know there's an incredible support system here, I cannot bring myself to show much vulnerabiltiy knowingly to public view. I'd sooner come to terms with it on my own terms...and *then discuss it

I reckon I'm pretty lucky with my kids and my friends

On a more sober note - "this" has been going on for the best part of 4 years really. And... I'm sorry to say this, but yes, it *is nice to see the System works (eventually) BUT What I didn't realise was that one of my friends who is a lot worse off than me had the same sort of Appeal procedure as me, and said much the same things, and was turned down flat. The only reasen I was awarded fairly and efficiently was because I had my local MP sitting in with me. To be awarded anything "indefinately" seems (in my case, anyway) common sense. You don't get regenerative spines, unfortunately, or I'd be first in the queue to get one. I've heard of cases where amputees have only had an award given for a year and then a gruelling review incase their amputated limb grows - "or the situation improves"

If he hadn't, then I too would have been turned down, I'm absolutely certain of it.

The system should work *in theory, but it's suddenly hit home to me how very very lucky I was to have a person of power watching this Tribunual like a hawk

And whilst its benefitted me, how many people, ask yourselves have been turned down on a technicality, and NOT had a friendly MP on their side? It was that thought of the poor devils like them that incensed me to fight and get the MP involved in the first place.

And once I've had a proper break, and become a little less stressed I am really going to concentrate hard on finding a way to encourage reformation of the System in some way; I wouldn't wish my experience on anyone - and in the scheme of things, I've had it pretty easy


But I'm going to have a nice bit of fun and a good course of chiropractice and massage before I start getting on my soapbox again.

Thank you both for your good wishes and congratualtions It was nice to share some good news and stuff

Among your other talents you are a mistress of understatement. Take this for example:

<< I wouldn't wish my experience on anyone - and in the scheme of things, I've had it pretty easy>>. Horlicks. NICe drink that by the way!

What I want to know is why people like you and thousands of others have to jump through hoops, walk a straight line, crawl and beg, when others who don't deserve it and have no real need seem to walk away with it all with no checks on THEIR *progress*.

The other thing that makes me furious is that carers are treated in such a cavalier fashion, having to beg for help that is patently obviously needed. Also that the Carer's Allowance ceases when a Carer reaches 60 and gets a pension, in spite of the fact that this is the stage when they need more help than ever, physically, mentally and financially.

Anyway, Ev, enjoy your new status to the full. No wonder you are surrounded by youngsters with your sense of humour. I have never subscribed to the view << of that crowd of apparent long haired layabouts>>. I do charity work and some of our best volunteers are of the type described.

I know my lads keep me abreast of the times, dragging me kicking and screaming in to the 20th century. I haven't quite reached the 21st century yet, but I hope to in 2007 Victor Meldrew permitting!!

Ta Ra for now. Keep up the good work. No mushy stuff but I think you're if a little ...............

Websailor

Only a *little* Webbie?

I must be doing something wrong then; I'm not *little* in anything!

Me neither. Alright then, a lot ...............

Websailor

That's fantastic, Evadne - I'm sorry, I've been away all weekend and am still catching up!

Somehow missed this, but good on ya! Kidda! Couldn't have happened to a nicer person.

So the Hobgoblin's on you at the next 'Annual HooToo Broadstairs beer Festival?



I am so pleased!

MMF

Hobgoblin?

Play your cards right MMF and it could be a nice tankard or two of Bishops Finger

Hiya Rich! Hobgoblin is a local potent ale here in glorious Kent. A tad on the strong side, but none the worse for that. Tastes like liquorice to me... has much the same effect as liqurice, too, I'm given to understand

Thanks for your congratulations - Everyone! I still haven't quite got my head around the fact that it's been awarded indefinately, to be honest. Thats the bit thats blowing my head up more than everything else - usually, the DLA insist on reviewing even amputees to see if their situation has improved

What do I intend to do with it? Well... clear my debts, buy myself a washing machine (I rent mine)...and sit on the rest until I've decided whether I'm going to take a holiday to Egypt and see the Pyramids... or Goa and see the Elephants with Sarah the Absent.

And I may well hire a Hot Air Balloon Trip for my birthday next year - its a tad expensive, but then, it isn't every day you hit 50, so I reckon a touch of expense or glamour might be a nice thing to do

But then again, I might not. Havne't decided yet

Its the fact that I can *do it thats so great As long as my body behaves itself well enough on any given outing, then I can finally afford to do it...and also pay for a friend to come and keep an eye on me incase I do something daft like fall over or seize up

THATs what the good bit is!

It's a potent beer down here, too, Evadne - I just salivate at the mention on it. I can confirm the liquorice effect, too...

Sorry Rich - I mistook the for a for some reasen known only to the synapses between the eyeballs and the brain

I think I'll stick to Badgers Ale meself.

You know where you are with a good Badger



BTW -Get your confidence in gear and go for that job you were emailed about man! The worst that can happen is you'll be turned down, and its a great opportunity.... do it!

There's absolutely no chance of me getting that one, Evadne - nice thought, but I think I'm just on a mailing list somewhere. I haven't quite got the kind of experience they're looking for

Just because you haven't got the experience you *think they're looking for, doesn't mean to say you're not possibly the right person for the job.

I've done a Mother's Nagging List on each criteria on the other thread, and if I can prove black's white, and not get run over at the next availiable zebra crossing, then I'm pretty certain I can convince you your modesty in your abilitiesis absolutely no excuse whatsoever for not shouting about them.


Says she, who does exactly the same sort of thing.