Where do the chronically sick fit into the new Welfare State?

Blog time again. My topic? The much published welfare cuts. Something small eh?

Anyone who has read my blog regularly knows that I receive two benefits, namely Disability Living Allowance (DLA) and ESA, having recently been successfully migrated into the Support Group of ESA for Incapacity Benefit. For me the migration went incredibly smoothly, they took less than a month to make a decision, didn't call me for the dreaded WCA assessment with ATOS. I filled in the form, it must have gone very quickly to a decision maker and the rest as they say is history. Although it was a huge relief to be migrated so easily compared to so many others, I have to admit that it is a very sobering and upsetting realisation to have it acknowledged that I am so bad I was an automatic 'to support group'. Yes, I know I'm realistic about my situation, but the numbers of people who have got into the support group without a battle is small. Really small. And I was one of them.

I also get a paltry Teachers' Pension (on which I pay tax I hasten to add!). We don't get housing benefit, council tax or anything else. Eric gets no help from social services (we did get some money to pay for a cleaner when he broke his arm but that has stopped and didn't cover the cost anyway) despite the fact he cares for me 24/7 with no respite at all. His Carers' Allowance ended when he reached 65. Apparently you are no longer a Carer once you've retired. Of course for him nothing changed. His care for me is the same as ever.

Get to the point I hear you cry! Here goes....

I am getting more than a little sick and tired of being branded as someone who is 'a skiver', 'sees benefits as a lifestyle choice' or any of the numerous, derogatory phrases and arguments being banded around in the press and on the news. It seems that anyone on benefits is fair game, we are targetted by politicians, newspaper columnists, and numerous others. Too many to list here. Google welfare state, look at Twitter or FB, the evidence is all there to be seen. I, like every other genuinely chronically ill  person find myself being lumped in with everyone else simply because I can't work. I detest being disabled, I wish I could work. It'd be there like a shot!! It certainly isn't by choice that I live as I do!! To be blunt nobody would want to live as I do. I don't want to be dependent on benefits, I want to still be teaching, making a difference to children's lives. Not a burden on my husband, dependent on him for everything. All day, every day....

I can't dress, get up, leave the house without significant help. I can't access the kitchen, let alone cook. I live in a reclining chair with my legs up because this is the only way to make life 'easier'. I take so many powerful drugs I would be a health and safety risk. 50-60mg of Morphine are flowing round my system 24/7 and 14 plus other drugs which try to counteract the symptoms. There is no cure, I will be like this to my dying day. That's me being realistic. Something may come along that will help more but my CRPS is so entrenched that nothing will get rid of it. My Consultant has said as much. I challenge anyone to be able to concentrate for any length of time, hold down a job or simply have any quality of life living as I do. Yes I do archery and go to speedway but only because I'm a cantankerous, stubborn wotsit who doesn't care just how bad I will feel for days after. I know I shouldn't be trying to do these activities, they are way too much to cope with but I will continue one way or another. Until I really can't, which I fear inevitably will be the case.

So why am I and other genuinely chronically sick and disabled people constantly being lumped in with those who are able to go out to work but don't? Treated as second class citizens, unworthy of a place in society, let alone have a voice. 'Those who go out to work do the right thing, those who don't are doing the wrong thing' George Osborne recently said in a speech. So I'm doing the wrong thing? How insulting is that? But what recourse do I have? None. The British public agree with the changes to the welfare state we are constantly being told. 'Working people are sick of being worse off than those on benefits'. Does this mean everyone who gets benefits of one sort or another? Those on JSA? Housing Benefit? DLA?Who knows? About the only acknowledgement to those who really are too disabled to work is the rather throwaway 'we will help those with genuine need' or something similar. Can't remember the exact wording because it is always the other  comments that make the news etc.

Don't get me wrong, I want a system which encourages people to work and rewards those that do. As I've already said I would be working if it were at all possible. Please, catch the fraudulent claimants, those who screw over the system and should be working. Those who claim to be too ill to work when really they could. I don't want to be associated with them. But we are. It has also been well documented that large numbers of people have been declared fit for work or placed in the work related group when claiming ESA, only to have this overturned on appeal (approx 40%). The system isn't working but this is largely overlooked because the Government never publicises it. It instead constantly tells us what a burden those on benefits are as I discussed above. 

How on earth do you try and raise awareness about cuts that are having a devastating effect on disabled peoples' lives? For example, the bedroom tax. When you phrase it in the manner the Govt has it seems to be a no-brainer. I didn't actually know that housing benefit paid to those in private rented accommodation excluded spare bedrooms. So on the face of it that sounds fair enough. Do the same for council houses. But what happens if you have a Carer who regularly stays overnight because the the person can't be left? Or your partner and you can't sleep in the same bed because your illness or disability make it impossible? Or you have lots of medical equipment that needs to be stored somewhere as is the case with a lot of conditions. My electric wheelchair takes up loads of room. Oxygen tanks, monitoring equipment, the list goes on and on. Surely there is a case for those with 'genuine need' to be exempt from the bedroom tax? Apparently not, we are all lumped together. 

I do wonder sometimes if the politicians actually believe there are people 'with genuine need'. Those who are placed in the work related group of contribution based ESA get their benefit for a year. These are people who are believed to be able to get back to work with appropriate help. Unfortunately a significant number of people placed in this group simply won't be capable of achieving this. Once the year ends their benefit stops and, as if by magic, they are supposedly healed and now fit for work. No review, that's it. I'm not sure what they're supposed to do after that, disappear into the ether I suppose. 

I could provide so many more examples of how the welfare changes are not fair for those in society who cannot work because of illness or disability. The Govt would have us believe that their changes will make the system fairer and that it will 'always pay to work'. Spare a thought for those who will face serious hardship having no way of going out to work if their benefit were to be reduced or suddenly stop. If my benefits were stopped I could do absolutely nothing to bring income into the house. No matter how much I might want to, it would be impossible. Where would that leave us?

I shall end with this for you to ponder....

The underlying principle of the welfare state has always been that a caring society looks after those who cannot provide for themselves or acts as a safety net for those who have fallen on hard times. Does the new look welfare state really do that? What does this say about our society, is it really a caring one anymore?

In sickness and on welfare

To summarise the last week - I've finally won one battle that was horrendous and something else that could have become a horrible nightmare didn't. Does that make it a good week or a bad one? I'll let you decide....

Winter vomiting bug, Norovirus, gastroenteritis, stomach bug. Whatever you call it, I have been battling with it since last Thursday evening. I won't go I to details, many reading this either will have had it, currently have it or will at some point get it (sorry). What I will touch on is just how much harder it is to cope with when you already have a chronic condition like CRPS.

You're throwing up into a bowl because no way can you get upstairs. The violent nature of the vomiting means other unwanted by-products are produced elsewhere (use your imagination). Remember I can't get up without help, and we (me wrapped in Eric's arms) can only shuffle along at best. This is not a good situation. When the vomiting happens on the hour, every hour throughout the night you very soon have absolutely no idea what to do with yourself. Don't forget that I sleep in my reclining chair. It was nigh on impossible to find a position which eased the nauseous feelings. We tried the emergency anti-sickness sachets I always have in reserve in case of migraine. These are dissolved in water. Straight back they came, as did anything else. Poor Eric had no idea what to do with me. Bella (my Border Collie) was scared and couldn't cope with me being sick, so kept running away upstairs. Bless her, she always came back up on my lap as soon as things had settled. Until the next time. And so it went on through Friday and beyond. It was only by Wednesday of this week that I finally started to eat anything like normally again. It felt like a lifetime...

Being in chronic pain it is vital that I take the arsenal of meds at the right times during the day otherwise my legs become essentially useless. The pain becomes so great that I can't really stand or weight bear even with help and there is no chance of sleep because the pain makes it impossible. This was clearly a huge issue, especially for my Morphine MST, which is taken every 12 hours and can't be taken again if you bring it back up.  Oramorph was clearly not an option. My GP prescribed medication to try and control the sickness and told us not to worry about my usual meds because the emphasis had to be on getting the sickness under control. So not only do you have a really nasty stomach bug, you have less control over your pre-existing condition than the little we usually manage. It was becoming a horror story.

For the next five to six days I've been held together by two lots of anti sickness drugs and anti diarrhoea tablets. You can only starve yourself for so long and some of my CRPS meds generally should be taken with food. So we had to try and start getting something into me. Tiny amounts of food, backed up with sickness sachets meant I was getting something into the system, but even so I spent long periods feeling very 'green around the gills'. 

Logistically it was horrible. Normally when you're unwell you take yourself off to bed. Of course this isn't an option for me, so I was stuck trying to get myself into a more comfortable position that would enable me to feel as good as possible. Of course I couldn't turn sideways or lie down so I was stuck in a semi upright position with my head only supported at the back by my pillow. Not ideal by any stretch of the imagination, and certainly hindered my improvement. I yearned to lie down, snuggle into a duvet, but of course for me this is impossible and would have been made the CRPS far worse than any small benefit it produced. The other problem of course is that I live downstairs, so no chance of a real quiet. Eric was amazing, turning the lights off in the evening and sitting in the dark because I couldn't cope with light at all. However with the TV on and the dogs coming and going it was a 'busy' atmosphere and made me feel worse. He cooked for himself as little as possible because the smell of the food made me worse.Of course the other major problem was that I was stuck in my chair as always. Couldn't get a breath of fresh air. Go and sit somewhere else, do anything to try and distract myself. I could only sit and fester. Another example of how a chronic condition makes things harder.

Thinking back to the first night, there was a point when I seriously considered asking Eric to call for an ambulance. It would have been sensible after all. I was wretching violently long after the point I had anything to bring up. Couldn't keep anything down long enough to try and control it. At A&E they could have sorted me out with a rehydration drip and injected anti sickness meds into me. Sadly there was little point. The restrictions the condition place on me make going to someone's house impossible. What would they have done with me? How on earth would they have got me into a bed etc? I couldn't have coped with the ambulance ride let alone anything else. Being handled would have been so painful it would have only added to my ordeal. I'd have been even more uncomfortable there than at home. It must seem hard to comprehend but trust me, going to hospital simply wasn't an option. No, I had to sit it out at home and hang in there. 

So here we are, a week to the day, and I am off all the sickness meds, 'only' having to deal with what CRPS throws at me. Never thought I'd say it but for once I'm grateful. It has been complete and utter hell. However as I alluded to at the top I have had some great news. A battle we won't, as it turns out, have to fight. Namely my Incapacity Benefit to Employment and Support Allowance transition. A previous blog covers what I went through to complete the form, but needless to say it was incredibly tiring, stressful and made my CRPS worse. I could go as far as to say that it laid me open to the bug I've just had and a virus I had before that. 

A brown envelope ironically arrived last Friday, exactly when I was feeling at my worst. My heart sunk. What did it say? Were they going to call me for a 'face to face assessment'? Had they put me in the work related group which would mean I would be expected to go on courses and have interviews at JobCentre Plus that would 'help me back to work'? I opened the envelope and the first thing I saw was £110.45. Seeing that number made me punch the air in delight. I have been placed in the support group. This was always where commonsense said I should be placed but after all the nightmare stories I've read and heard I was always very nervous and worried. 

In actual fact the transition couldn't have gone smoother thank goodness. They didn't call me in, made a decision quickly and I can now relax again, safe in the knowledge that I will continue to get my benefit. There was no review date given so I have no idea if or when they will ask me to fill in the form again but in the meantime they will leave me alone and in peace. I can concentrate on just trying to get through each day again, thank goodness. Wonderful, wonderful news!!

The process of applying for ESA, having now gone through it (in part) worries me greatly. The form is ambiguous, very long and to give sufficient detail to describe what life is like you need to really spell it out. Ok, I have CRPS, but my brain still works as it did so I can write about my condition, symptoms and their effect on my life. What happens if somebody can't do that? For whatever reason? Say, for example, all they can do is tick the boxes and perhaps write a few words. They could be just as disabled as me, but someone reading the form will have no idea. How could they? 

That is where the face to face assessment for ESA should come in as the safety net, as the medical did for Incapacity Benefit. I obviously can't comment as I haven't had the ESA one. I did have an IB medical when I first applied. However the numbers seem to speak for themselves. A quick Google search reveals just how many genuinely deserving people are being declared fit for work or being placed in the wrong group. 40% of appeals against the initial award are successful. That simply isn't acceptable and surely means the criteria by which these assessments are being made is flawed at best and not fit for purpose at worst? We are talking people's lives and financial stability here. These are massive, life changing decisions that are being wrongly made. Causing huge heartache and in some cases resulting in people committing suicide or dying (eg. for those with cancer or terminally ill) before their appeal is heard. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for catching those who are claiming fraudulently. They deserve everything the law can throw at them. Particularly as it is them who give everyone on benefis those terrible labels 'skiver' or 'scrounger' The UK has always been immensely proud of it's welfare state. It's caring society. I leave it to you to decide whether you think we still have a 'caring society' any more?

Reality check.......

It's been a horrible week. As I write this I have, for once in my life been sensible and have decided not to go to archery tonight. A rare moment of weakness you might say? Perhaps.... or perhaps not. To be honest I don't feel up to writing this but here I am. Better get on with it then!! 

I have done nothing this week other than archery on Saturday, after which I had the horrific shivering episode (see last blog post if you haven't read it - it's all in there) and then archery at home on Tuesday. The rest of the week I've done nothing apart from play the odd video game (when I could), read a few pages of a magazine or my book and sit in my chair festering. I have had massive problems with my legs, eyes and head. I have lost complete days because my eyes have had to be completely covered, being intolerant to the slightest amount of light. The pain as ever has been awful, but when your head, eyes and legs are all thumping, burning, stabbing with pain at the same time, life isn't much fun. In fact it isn't life at all. I have sat in this chair willing myself to sleep to get away from it, with mixed success. Each time I woke my immediate thought was 'has it gone?'. Again with mixed success. Of course the pain in my legs never goes but to date my eyes have generally recovered over the course of a day. I then go for a period of time before they flare badly again.

..... continued, Saturday morning

It is a worrying development that my eyes are featuring so frequently in my payback now, although we already know that they are affected by CRPS. I suspect the intense concentration needed to focus on the target arrow after arrow is at the heart of that. Like my legs, using my eyes too much (by CRPS standards) causes payback. It explans the regularity of them flaring in recent times. The trouble is that there is no way to distract yourself from the pain when the eyes and head are affected. The activities mentioned earlier are my staple ways of trying to take my mind off the pain. Indeed when your mobility is so compromised, activities are reliant on using your eyes and brain. Take these away and what's left?

It seems that whatever I chose to try and do CRPS does all it can to stop me. The harder I push the harder it pushes back. Of course this isn't breaking news, it's been an ongoing battle between doing things and the payback that results. However the events of last Sunday in particular have really given me a wake up call. More than this it has forced me to acknowledge  the reality of my situation. I'm struggling to find the words, to express how I feel about it all now but there's a definite paradigm shift (Newtonian Physics to Quantum Mechanics anyone!!).

..... continued, Saturday evening

I think the fact that this is my third attempt at writing the nitty gritty of this post, shows just how hard it is to admit to yourself the brutal reality that is your situation. I have always prided myself on doing things that by rights I shouldn't even attempt but really enjoy. This is regardless of how I feel before and during as well as the consequences they bring. Speedway was my line in the sand. Archery joined it. I have of course tried to do archery more often than I should have and paid the consequences. I always thought to myself 'there's nothing physically wrong with my legs, I can't make them worse. It's just pain, then the inevitable payback and I can sit that out'. That's worked for the last seven years but the events of last Sunday morning have shaken that philosophy to it's very core.

I want to make a joke of it and say 'hello, my name's Jane, and I'm severely disabled and chronically ill'.  I never understood why people say I'm brave, an inspiration or they don't know how I cope like I do. I'm not saying I do now but it has dawned on me just how bad I actually am. It's a sobering thought I can tell you. I felt a bit like it when I was filling out the ESA form, spelling out the various symptoms and just what was involved in enabling me to do anything. The fact that I am reliant on Eric for absolutely everything. My payback is consistently worse and more debilitating (if that's possible). It takes longer to 'recover' and I rarely leave the house. Not because I've given up, far from it. No it's because it just takes so long to recover. Oh, and because I will insist on doing things like archery again before I should!!

I now have 50mg of morphine flowing round my body 24/7 as well as the other 14 (at the last count) meds. 50mg!! 60mg with Oramorph!! Hard to process that when you see people on the TV seriously hurt being given 10mg of morphine and their pain vanishes. It all helps but nothing takes my pain away, or the burning and everything else CRPS throws at me. Touches it at best. It's madness to be taking that yet still be unable to do anything other than shuffle a few metres clutching onto Eric. Is it really any wonder why I end up in such a terrible state doing archery? 

Worst is that it will only get worse, CRPS just keeps coming it seems, affecting more and more of my body. Where will it stop? Will it? Who knows the answer to that, I certainly don't? There certainly isn't any cure on the horizon. But if I'm going to carry on doing archery and speedway and perhaps getting out for the occasional walk with the dogs in my wheelchair I have to get better at the two things I'm absolutely lousy at... PACING and BEING SENSIBLE. Not words you'd expect to find in my vocabulary. Well if the last week has taught me anything, it is that I have got to be far more careful, oh alright... sensible. Not going to archery was the right decision because I do feel better for it today. I never want to experience that shivering nightmare again that's for sure.

Payback certainly won't stop me doing archery,  just as it won't stop me going to speedway. Those lines are still firmly drawn in the sand. But I will be trying to be just a bit more sensible and pace myself better. Who'd have thought it!!

Not something I'd want to go through again!!

Eric took this seemingly comical photo of me with Kai perched precariously on my shoulder sometime after 5am this morning. What was really going on was a frightening episode for me, him and the dogs.

I woke up shivering. I don't mean the shivering  we all do when we experience a temperature drop, say when we go outside.. This was full on, completely uncontrollable shaking of my whole body. My teeth were chattering, both eyes were agony. Everywhere hurt, I couldn't move at all, I had no strength in my muscles. I didn't want to wake Eric. However after about 15 minutes snuggled under the duvet with my fleecy blanket it was just as bad. I had no other option. It was frghtening, I couldn't understand why I was in so much trouble. I didn't know what to do with myself. For some reason my knees were bent, so every shake was agony. I couldn't relax the legs at all because every time I tried the the pain was even worse. I was screaming in agony, couldn't find a position that reduced the intensity of the pain.

As ever Eric was brilliant. He went off and found lots of blankets which he put over me and tucked me in. a cup of tea with a bit of sugar in it appeared. next came Oramorph which really helped as it slowly enabled me to relax my legs a bit. The blankets made very little difference initially, it was more than an hour before the shivering calmed down and I started to warm up. More cups of tea appeared, and he didn't stop watching over me. Eventually I managed to get back to sleep and as I write this now I feel a million times better than I did then. Still awful but at least it is now the usual 'payback' that comes with doing anything. It's never pretty, but this was something else completely. My crime? Archery coaching.....

Right, back to the photo. Bella can't cope at all when I am particularly bad and either runs away or refuses to leave me. In this case it was the latter. Despite it making everything worse she refused to leave me. We'd get her to jump off but then immediately she would jump back up. Eventually Eric managed to get her to lie on the bed next to me. As soon as I woke up she was back up on my lap. As ever, I wonder what I'd do without her. Similarly, Kai was determined to look after me as well. I couldn't see what he was doing because I had sunglasses on with the fabric case over the top to block out the light. How he ended up there I have no idea.  Eric lifted him off so he did the next best thing and sat on the box I have next to my chair, pawing at me to stroke him. Aren't dogs brilliant? They bring such comfort and support.

I truly hope I don't have to go through that again. It was frightening to be in that state, which has to be one of the worst episodes I've had after doing something. Perhaps it was because of the virus I've had all week, I wasn't over it as much as I thought. I will never know I suppose. It is worrying that the payback seems to have been ramped up a level recently, but I have to keep doing the things I enjoy (archery and going to speedway) regardless. The alternative is a life sat in my chair doing nothing. CRPS got the better of me this morning, but the fight goes on......

My turn for the brown envelope....

Nearly 7500 words....

That weighty number is the final word count for the ESA form I finally finished a week or so ago. I toiled for some 15 days on the damn thing, doing some until I felt too ill to carry on. Slept for a few hours and then toiled some more. Very early on I realised that I simply can't cope with filling in something like that anymore. It has taken me this long to feel up to writing about the experience.

To be honest I can't do anything much that an able-bodied person would consider trivial. A simple example. We have had a self install upgraded cable modem from Virgin which has been sitting upstairs since way before Xmas. I've had two text messages from them asking me if I had a problem installing it. If I needed support then give them a ring and they could talk me through it. Doing it wasn't the issue was it, I can do all that standing on my head. Or rather I could. No the problem was that I couldn't get upstairs and sit on a normal chair long enough to do it!!! Eric can't do these things, so it has been a case of waiting till I felt up to it. that in itself being a contradiction in terms. I never feel up to doing anything. If CRPS had it's way and I wasn't the stubborn, cantakerous wotsit that I am, I would do nothing. That means absolutely nothing, not read, play games, get up, go out at all and certainly not do those mad activities like speedway and archery that define my battle to do something I enjoy!! 

Anyway the day had come so I went for it.  It was torture, had to phone up to activate it which seemed to take forever. Not aided by the fact that it was really hard to understand what the person I was talking to. By the time I'd done, I couldn't move, was in total agony and I somehow had to get down the stairs back to the comfort of my chair. I don't know how he does it, but Eric cajoles me along and we somehow get there together, I crashed out almost immediately and when I woke....well let me just say I felt I'd been hit by a very large lorry. Legs utterly off the scale, world spinning etc etc. Good old Oramorph, helped me as it always does, but it was just another reminder, if any were needed, so how little I can do.

Which brings me back to the ESA form. I got the brown envelope a couple of weeks before Xmas, had my telephone call, with, what seemed to be a very nice person at JobCentrePlus. The form arrived and seemed pretty similar to the Incapacity Benefit forms I'd filled in before. Having read so many horror stories about people being placed in the wrong group, the way they interpret the form in ways that beggar belief, and of course the flawed face-to-face assessment I was determined that they were going to get the fullest picture of what CRPS has done to me, it's impact on my life and health. Most importantly I would do all I could to explain in as much detail as I could manage, how coping with life is hard enough, and how, much as I wish I could, work is about as far away as the moon. 

I had downloaded a guide to help with filling in the form. It is scary the way the form can interpreted in a completely different way to how the question is phrased. For example the 'imaginary' wheelchair. If someone can't move 50 metres unaided or use crutches etc, they can award points on the basis that if  they had a manual wheelchair and they think the person could push themselves along for that distance then they get no points. Doesn't matter that they haven't got one. This 'logic' is set to be expanded on 28/1/13. This will bring in 'imaginary' guide dogs, prosthetic limbs. They are even going as far as to say that if someone hasn't had all available treatment options available then they will be awarded on the basis that if they did they could get back into work. How on earth a decision maker will have the necessary knowledge of every condition to make such a decision is beyond me. Scary? Terrifying? I'll leave you to decide....

Early on I decided to go the electronic route.  Could phase and re-phrase, say exactly what I wanted with more space to get the detail in. Looking back it is safe to say that the form is completely inappropriate for someone like myself who can't concentrate for long. Every section takes forever to fill in when you have a complicated set of symptoms like CRPS. There is so much to get on paper, if you are going to properly explain, and show what your situation is. Even trying to explain just how much is involved in getting me out of the door to attend an assessment and the problems I may face when there took far more space than the box allowed had I handwritten it.  

As an aside it wasn't until I tried to print the form at the end that I realised the boxes have no limit on characters. Printed you couldn't read the text at all so I then had to cut and paste enough into the box to make it legible and then put the rest of the text on overflow pages. Don't forget I was a teacher so I have the knowledge to deal with these things. There are so many people out there who can't. What are they supposed to do? Is it any wonder that people are being put in the wrong group when the form sets them up to fail? What about those with mental health issues? How on earth do they fill in the form in the first place? There has to be a better way surely?

I spent some time every day bar a couple filling in that form virtually from the day I received it. It was horrible and incredibly stressful. not good when stress only provokes a flare in all your symptoms. I woke each morning exhausted from the day before with my legs worse than before. My eyes were really painful because I was looking at the iPad too much and they can't cope with it. CRPS again. Despite this I had to tried to focus on writing some more, or re-writing what I had written to ensure it made sense. I cut and pasted from previous applications and then re-jigged it. Just as well we are organised and have electronic copies of medical documents from Consultants (thanks go to Eric for that) so could just print a load of supporting material off to go with it. When I wasn't working on it I was sleeping. Well crashed out really, having had to stop because I felt so terrible. When I woke, it was back to the form. It hung over me, especially as I had to get the form back to them before 22nd January. I even got another letter pestering me that they hadn't had the form back. Dated 13th January. I was stressed enough, without that I can tell you!

I worried that I would never get it done so looked into what happened if I couldn't. Draconian measures to say the least. You have to write a letter explaining why you didn't get it done. Err, I'm in no fit state to do it at any time, let alone in a few weeks! Laughable, but then all people on sickness benefits are scroungers anyway aren't they? It makes me so angry... Anyway, having sent the letter, it is up to the decision maker to decide whether your reasons for being late are 'acceptable'. If they decide not then they can refuse to look at the form, reject it and declare you fit for work. It beggar's belief doesn't it? How can vulnerable people be treated like this?

I did get the form filled in thanks to my husband and a wonderful, close friend (you know who you are my friend) who proof readit, and got it off in time. Their reassurance was so important. What was left of me by this stage was someone incredibly stressed, struggling with a major flare, exhausted, mentally drained and terrified that I hadn't done enough to explain my condition, the impact it has on my life and the problems I have doing anything. It is still hanging over me, and will do until I hear from them with a decision. I am really hoping that they will put me straight into the support group without an assessment. I don't see how I can be put anywhere else but who knows? It's on my records that I shouldn't be called to a medical because of the severity of my condition. Will this matter? Ordeal springs to mind about the whole process. I have absolutely no way of replacing the income should they reduce my benefits, so where does that leave us? Exactly as we are but worse off. So we wait for the next brown envelope or a phone call telling us what happens next. 

Don't get me wrong, I am all for uncovering those people who claim to be disabled when they are fit and able. But to treat everyone as if we are 'scroungers', 'on the take' is so wrong on many levels. The Government claims that they are supporting those who have genuine need. Well if anyone fits into that category I do. We shall see in the coming weeks whether the Government really does mean that. Or whether it's just about saving money by targeting those who can't fight back. 

Click here to find out about and perhaps sign the WOW Petition. 

With pleasure comes pain....

It seems aeons ago when I last managed to write a blog post. Largely because of the impact doing archery has had on me, plunging me into the battle that is trying to recover enough before I shoot again. Ok I admit I've made life harder for myself by trying as I have to squeeze a second session in between the Club's Friday night sessions. The inevitable fallout is that I can do little else, having only left the house a handful of times to do other things since September. Lakeside shopping twice at most, been to lunch with Eric once. The rest of the time I sit 24/7 in my reclining chair. I play a video game in the morning when Eric walks the dogs, read magazines and my current book, do puzzles, watch televison and sleep. Were it not for my wonderful Twitter and FB friends I've made, many of whom I have become very close to, I would have no quality of life at all. They provide a welcome link to the normal life I can't take my place in. The only times I get up, and this would be impossible without Eric's help, are to sit on the commode (which he brings to my chair despite the fact it is only 6 or 7 feet away) or drag myself up the stairs once a week for torture, oops, I mean a bath. Once is all I can manage so it has to do. Apart from that, my life is about as exciting as watching paint dry. I make the most of what I have, and remain stoically positive, but those are the brutal facts of my situation.

I was incredibly 'naughty' last week, being silly enough to shoot on Friday night and then again on Saturday. I shot a new 

distance on the Friday, on a smaller face and I was disgusted with my performance. The trouble is that my standards are still those of the person who played golf off a 6 handicap seven years ago. I make no allowances for the CRPS, the ridiculous position I shoot in or anything else. It was inevitable that I would shoot again on Saturday, to do better. Eric didn't try and stop me, he knows me well enough to acknowledge that I wouldn't be happy until I'd shot again at a more acceptable standard. 

Didn't matter that I had been virtually unable to weight bear and getting from the car to the house when we got home on Friday, had been unbelievably difficult and excruciatingly painful. It's only a few metres, 5 at most. Might as well be a marathon! Thank goodness for Eric, who, as always, wrapped his arms around me, fully taking all my weight and gently guiding me small shuffle by small shuffle towards the house.Whispering that I could do it, come on, one more step. The man is my rock, my world and I love him more than I can express in words. Finally got me sorted out and back in my chair. Brought me a beautiful cup of tea and Oramorph. Did everything he could to make me comfortable.

In the event I shot a PB for a half Portsmouth down the garden, 208. I was happier. The fallout was appalling, I was in agony trying to get in the wheelchair, let alone sitting in it whilst shooting. When I was finally back in my chair I was in a seriously bad way. Couldn't weight bear at all, so it was a case of getting the wheelchair as close to my chair as possible, him pull and me push up out of the wheelchair then cling on to Eric and fall sideways into the chair affair. More Oramorph and sleep followed till Eric woke me many hours later for my dinner. In my defence I was buoyed tremendously by my achievement so I didn't care.. 

It is a pretty good marker that the payback has subsided and my pain, swelling and everything else are getting back to 'nomal' levels when I manage to get the i newspaper. That's the really small one, with short articles etc. Finally managed it today, some 5 days on from Saturday. Bearing in mind that I have not left my chair other than to sit on the commode or go for a bath (this morning), it gives a reflection of just how hard it is for somebody with severe CRPS to try and have a hobby, do something they enjoy. Get pleasure from life. Oh and I still had to take Oramorph (my last line of defence) today because my legs are still awful. At least I can stay awake for several hours at a time now. That is real progress believe me!! Sunday and Monday passed me by, I slept through them. Tuesday was a little better, in that I managed to stay awake a little bit, but still I just festered, feeling terrible, and life passed me by. Wednesday I could finally read a bit, before feeling too unwell to carry on. Throughout my legs were off the scale and I had to resort to Oramorph at least once a day. It is only today that I feel more like myself. Normally it would be archery tomorrow, but the indoor sessions have finished till 11th January. A reprieve? Probably not, because I will probably shoot tomorrow if the weather is better.

Despite the toll it takes, archery (like speedway) are vital to my sanity. I would go stir crazy sitting at home in my chair 24/7 entertaining myself with reading and so on. The reality of life for me is that it really doesn't matter what I do, however trivial. Even if I do nothing the pain is there. There is always payback. Days of it. My base level pain (an 8 is as good as it gets for me despite the arsenal of medication) and lack of mobility make it impossible to access other areas of the house. I can't do anything independently, so life would be intolerable really. Unless we go out or I go in the garden (another military operation like everything else) I am a prisoner every minute of every day in my chair thanks to CRPS. Quality of life? What quality of life? 

I choose to do archery and go to speedway despite what they do to me, because I choose to try and have some quality of life. I reckon if I'm going to do something I may as well do something I really enjoy. If I waited till I felt good enough to do something I would wait forever. In my position, you just have to go for it. And sod the consequences!!

PS...

I don't like being political but I will allow myself on this occasion. There is a particular irony in that a letter from the DWP saying I am to be migrated from Incapacity Benefit (IB) and assessed for Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) came a week ago. In the weeks to come I will have to 'prove' that I am disabled, unable to undertake work. This will be the fourth time of filling in the form but the first for ESA. How do you possibly put across what life is like for me on a tick box form without the room to elaborate fully? I wouldn't mind but I, like every other genuinely disabled person are branded as a scrounger, the scourge of society by this Government. People who choose to live on benefits rather than go and work. I would give anything to be able to work. There are many things I'd like to be able to do!! Little things like being able to get up and fetch the thing I want rather than ask Eric to get it. Get dressed on my own. Be able to leave the house on my own. Do anything on my own!! They may demand that I travel goodness knows how far to undergo a 'work capability assessment'. It is an insulting and degrading process, causing unnecessary stress when life is hard enough in itself. 

No going back....

Finally the letter from my Consultant arrived and my GP would finally prescribe the new meds I needed to start phase 1 of our plan to try and beef up my pain relief. That was nearly a week ago so thought I'd take stock of where I am so I have a reference point further down the line.

It went very smoothly, the two co-dydramol three times a day and two co-codamol at night were replaced with two paracetamol, effectively removing all codeine from the arsenal. My morphine MST has increased from 40mg to 45mg. I had been expecting horrible codeine withdrawal but nothing. Indeed I felt better in myself, some of the 'fog' seemed to have lifted. This was going to be easier than I could have hoped!

Unfortunately it became apparent very quickly that the pain relief wasn't as good. My baseline pain is worse, the stabbing pains more potent, the burning pain hotter. They are more naggy generally, stiffer and it is even harder to move than ever. As I type this I had my first bath in a week a few hours ago. I didn't want to but there is only so long you can put up with that yucky feeling when you haven't washed properly for days. I felt 104 trying to get up the stairs, getting on and off the bath lift was exhausting and even Eric's most gentle drying could have easily have been red hot pokers running up and down the legs. Before I go further it is important to explain that what I describe is based on what I have been like on the old meds. We are going from a very poor base to something even worse.

Everything came to a head yesterday. I felt unbelievably awful, don't think I have ever felt that bad. Death would have been a very happy release and that isn't meant flippantly. I was uncontrollably hot, my legs had fallen off the scale and disappeared into a dark abyss of hell. I was exhausted, felt physically sick, couldn't move at all, head was about to explode. It was utter hell. Was this withdrawal? Was it the resultant state I would be in as a result of changing the meds? Had the morphine not built up but the codeine gone? Of course it was utterly impossible to know just why I felt that bad. I resisted the Oramorph - after all if I didn't know whether the morphine was causing the problems, adding more would just make it worse. So as always I sat it out and thankfully I started to feel a bit better once all the meds were on board. It was scary and I know I panicked when I felt at my worst. There was nothing I could do, we had to continue with the new regime, regardless of what it was doing and may do that may be worse.

Well I am writing this so things must have got better? Yes and no. I feel nowhere near as bad as yesterday so whatever it was it isn't getting worse. Hooray! However as I have already said the pain relief is worse so life is tougher. But hey, life is always tough, so what's a bit more? One thing is for sure, there is no turning back, so in another week phase 2 begins with more changes. Who knows what the outcome will be, what side effects, withdrawal etc I'll suffer. I just hope that in the end the overall effect is an improved handle on the pain with Oramorph there for when I really need it, not just another thing I take each day. 

So, forward we go into the unknown that is a major shift in medications. Fingers crossed it will all be worth it....