Friday, 9 December 2016

It's the most wonderful time of the year.....

It's Chriiiiiiiiiistmas!!!!

I've always loved Christmas.  As a kid, we grew up on a council estate.  It was just Mum & us 4 girls for a little while but then Keith came along and all was well.

My earliest Christmas memory is infact I think a mix of two different Christmas memories but like memories do, it's become a bit muddled over the years.  It involves Rachel's birthday (my younger sister) which is 9th December and an ambulance taking me from her birthday party where I was having fun to a hospital, where I wasn't even though my bed was next to the ward's Christmas tree.
But then I remember coming home from hospital also in an ambulance and being carried to the settee. Next to the settee was the christmas tree, which had twinkly coloured lights, cotton wool round the bottom to look like snow and a painted plaster-of-paris ornament of santa's sleigh & reindeers, all pieces linked together with lil gold chains (I loved that ornament and Mum had it years).  When I remember that, I remember feeling safe and happy and excited because it was Christmas.

No matter how much or how little money we had (usually how little) we were spoilt rotten.  We never, ever felt like we'd missed out.   We were always asked for a christmas list sometime in December and we never got everything on it but then we also never expected to.

Christmas eve when it was bedtime, we had to write our name on two lil pieces of paper, put one on the arm of a chair - Tracey & Joanne being the eldest got the 2 armchairs, and me and Rachel had one end of the settee each.  The other was pinned to a sock & the bannister upstairs, so Father Christmas knew who's stocking was who's.  Father Christmas sometimes seemed to be a bit pissed when we heard him giggling through the bedroom door, trying to put gifts in the stockings.

Christmas morning.  Invariably we wouldnt have slept much and we'd gather on someone's bed, whispering but trying not to be heard,  but at the same time being so excited we were probably shouting.  Mum & Dad would always wake up slightly grouchy - I wonder why.

We'd open our stockings on the bed.  Being amazed by lil trinkets such as a novelty pencil sharpener, a pair of earrings, a pencil, and ALWAYS ALWAYS an apple and an orange at the bottom.  Oh happy days!!

Then we'd all gather on the landing outside the bathroom, Mum insisting we all had a wee before going down.  I always got pushed to the back of the toilet line as as was said 'you can wait', and so I could.  Then we'd line up at the top of the stairs jostling and fighting to be right behind Mum & Dad and we'd tiptoe down the stairs.  At the bottom, Mum or Dad would slowly open the living room door and say (I can still feel the excitement even typing this!) "Has he been?"
Then the door would be opened and we'd all rush in.

Frantic present opening, all of us showing Mum & Dad what Father Christmas had brought up (as if they didnt already know) we'd all be excited with absolutely everything while Mum & Dad tried to remember what Auntie Irene, Eileen & Brian etc had brought us so when we wrote our thank you notes we'd remember who'd got what from whom.

Dad would always be in the middle of the room with a black bin liner, trying to catch flying wrapping paper.  We'd want to open everything and play with it and were encouraged to just put it down for now and open something else.  There would always be a 'main present' which was usually the most expensive gift and something to be treasured, things such as a bike, or a record player or a walkman or a dolls house.  I remember Dad spending all Christmas eve building a Sindy dolls house for Rachel one year.  I got a gorgeous bike when I was a teenager, that was the year it snowed all over Christmas and New Year and I couldnt get out to ride it, but the snowball fights in the back alley were ace.

Once everything was opened and paper was cleared away, we'd be left to play with things, and look through our pile of gifts while Mum & Dad had a much needed cuppa and a ciggie each.

I seem to remember when we were little (but dont trust my memories) Mum & Dad always opened their presents to each other right after we'd had ours.  But I also remember a 'grown ups christmas' later in the day when Nana & Grandad, Auntie Carol & Stuart were there.
Because we'd never had much money, Mum & Dad always made a pact to not spend much on each other.  But Dad never took any notice and lavished gifts on Mum, I remember her crying every Christmas morning when she opened something gorgeous, something she'd mentioned she'd like and he'd listened, unbeknown to her.  I remember a full length mirror one year on a stand, I remember a gold bracelet which she cried buckets when opening, always with the words said through tears of "Oh Keith. Oh Keith".  I'm crying now remembering. Happy tears,

After everything was calm, a cooked breakfast would be made.  Then we'd all get our glad-rags on and get ready to go out.  When we were little there was Mum & Dad, Auntie Carol & Stuart and Nana & Grandad, so they'd all 'do' a day each.  One would do Christmas Day, one would do Boxing Day (Auntie Carol's birthday) and one would do New Years Day.  When I was 10, the family grew by a cousin (Phil) and then another cousin (Carrie) a few years later but the family did the same routine forever and a day and it was perfect.

Sadly, as happens with life, things change.  Suddenly one Christmas an older sister wasnt there cos she was with her husband and their baby, then another older sister so it was just me and our Rach with Mum & Dad.  We'd all still do the getting together at Mum/Auntie Carol's/Nana's bit but Christmas morning changed quickly.
Once I moved away from home, I adored going home for Christmas.  I'd married a man who disliked Christmas immensly (he was - and still is - a miserable, grumpy bastard) so going home was always a win-win for me and something I looked forward to for a couple of months leading up.

The family grew and grew, sisters had babies galore.  And as happens, sadly people left us.  Grandad first, then shockingly of all, Auntie Carol.  Christmas's were never the same after that.  I still went home for a few years but things had to be done differently.  Nana left and then my perfect Dad.  And my sisters families grew and grew, but sadly not mine.

Now we spend Christmas with Hari's family and its always lovely - they are another big family who love each other to bits.  But I hancker back to those old Christmas's with kisses galore off Auntie Carol (dont let her see you wipe a kiss off or she'll sit on you and smother you with kisses or tickle you like mad), getting an Adam Ant LP and fighting to play it on the record player and having to listen to Mum's Shirley Bassey LP first, eating Mum's trifle (she made a mean trifle) , watching Mum & Dad looking exhausted after Christmas Dinner was done, playing board games with a young Phil & Carrie, playing dollies with our Rachel, watching Tracey try to put every item of new clothing on she'd got that year... so many memories.

One of my 'If I won the lottery' dreams has been for a long time - to rent a huge house and invite my family.  That's 3 sisters and their husbands.  Their children and their families (that's 14 nephew & nieces with their partners and their children) Mum of course and Hari's family too.  Have a long table and caterers to do Christmas dinner and games after.  Lots of fun and lots and lots of memories.

I really miss being with my family for Christmas, one of the drawbacks of getting older, I guess.  Its amazing how different its is now to how it was then but then I am incredibly fortunate to have had such wonderful times and have all those lovely memories and every year I remember that plaster-of-paris ornament the twinkling lights on the tree and being loved.

I can be a bit grumpy on the run up to Christmas because I dislike being an adult!  But I do love it, honest :)


Me, Rachel & Joanne one Christmas at Palatine Road
 Mum & Dad going off to a Boxing Day football match
This was the look after every Christmas dinner

Opening what I think was an Adam Ant LP

Me & Rachel at Auntie Carol's house, Rach is pregnant with Thomas

Visiting Father Christmas one year, probably in Lewis's... although it might have been at the Symbol Biscuit's Christmas Party

Me & Rach in our fanulous 'satin' pyjamas... they almost set alight every time I moved in bed.
A game of catch



Saturday, 9 July 2016

50 Things To Do Before I'm 50

Last weekend I achieved something I've wanted to do for just over a year.  I took part in the Kidney Research London Bridges Walk with my best friends and my husband.  The previous year I'd wanted to take part but it didn't happen for one reason and another. This year I was determined, it happened and my fabulous team & me raised over £1200 for a deserving charity, plus we had a great day wandering round London which is an absolute must for anyone once in a lifetime.

It got me thinking about all the other things I want to do that always put off and never make time for, so I resolved to make a list of 50 things I want to do before I'm 50, which gives me exactly 1 year & 28 days including today (9th July 2015).

These are things achievable, not major holidays, travelling the world, nothing like that.  These are things I think & hope I could complete, although some need the help of others and some need a lot of luck!

Here is my list (in no particular order)....

1.    Go on the London to Brighton Veteran Car Run again - I used to go every year once upon a long ago but haven't for a while but its a fab day out.

2.    Experience a trip in a hot air balloon

3.    Do the zip wire in Snowdonia

4.    Pull a pint at The Three Horseshoes - an odd one this as I pulled thousands of pints but I just want to pour another one, one last time

5.    Do a parachute jump for charity

6.    Repaint my pub sign - I last did it in 2010 and it seriously needs tarting up again 

7.    Do the London Bridges Walk for Kidney Research UK - COMPLETED 

8.    Win a Pointless trophy - twice I've filled the online application in for 'Pointless' but never sent it

9.    Visit Karen & Jon in Ireland - I miss her!

10.  Holiday in Guernsey again

11.  Visit Herm & sit on Shell Beach again, collect some shells

12.  Ride in a carriage down Blackpool Prom - as a Blackpool girl I always wanted to do this but surprisingly I never have

13.  Go to a football match

14.  Have a dance in the Tower Ballroom - I hate dancing (too self-conscious) but I love the Tower Ballroom

15.  Go punting down The Cam

16.  Go on a Thames River Cruise

17.  Experience paragliding or parascending

18.  Drive a super fast car at a race track - possibly birthday present idea.... anyone?!

19.  Learn sign language

20.  Go to an outdoor music performance with a picnic and friends

21.  Change my hair style/colour - I've had the same boring one for donkeys years, need to be brave!

22.  Go on the Emmerdale tour

23.  Have a make over by the fabulous Abz

24.  Send a message in a bottle

25.  Pay for someone's tea/coffee anonymously.

26.  Go to Northumberland, Lindisfarne and see the Grace Darling statue - I've been lucky enough to see a lot of the UK but have never been to the north east

27.  Learn how to play cards - I only know how to play patience & snap!

28.  Finish writing my book

29.  Be present at a birth - Not sure I'll be lucky enough to witness a child being born, so
       this includes any birth, kitten, bird, puppy etc

30.  Grow a plant from seed

31.  See a live band - unless you count Gene Pitney at Butlins, I've never seen a live band

32.  Volunteer for a local good cause - COMPLETED

33.  Get up early to witness a beautiful sunrise

34.  Sit by the sea and watch a sunset

35.  Learn to play a musical instrument

36.  Win a competition

37.  Go on a narrow boat

38.  Visit the Kelpies in Falkirk

39.  Feed a lamb

40.  Read the 5 books I've been meaning to read forever!
       1984
       Animal Farm
       The Great Gatsby
       Cold Comfort Farm
       Memoirs of a Militant

41.  Finish the cushion cover cross-stitch that Melanie gave me to finish

42.  Release 5 balloons with tags on, if they're found donate to a charity of the finders
       choice

43.  Plant a tree & watch it grow

44.  Adopt an animal at a wildlife sanctuary

45.  Conquer a fear - COMPLETED!

46.  Meet someone I have only ever dreamt of meeting

47.  Own & wear a sari

48.  Go stargazing

49.  Make a wine or spirit and drink it on my 50th birthday

50.  Make a gingerbread house

Friday, 19 February 2016

Interview with Scope regarding disability

Story template

Name of storyteller

Gillian Singh
Age of storyteller

48
Name of interviewer

Nick Duquemin
Date of interview

14 September 2015
Where does the storyteller live? (Specify town in UK)

Manchester
Which Scope service/s (if any) has the storyteller used?

N/A
If the story teller is disabled, specify impairment

Gill has spina bifida which affects her mobility; she uses a walker. She has also developed kidney failure and has dialysis in hospital three times a week
If the storyteller is talking about a disabled person, specify the impairment and the storyteller’s relationship to that person


Name of storyteller’s relationship manager (i.e. Scope contact)

Nick Duquemin
Where and when has this story been used?

Is the storyteller happy to speak to the media? (Check consent form).
Yes
  
Story outline

In 300 words or less, describe what the story is about. This is just an outline to help other staff decide if they want to read the full interview notes. Do not use this as your final story.

Gill, who has spina bifida, worked full time for many years. In 2009, her health worsened and she had to give up work. She was awarded ESA and placed in the work-related activity group, which at that point was not time-limited. Gill planned to go back to work as soon as she could, but knew that she would be unable to for some time.

In 2010, the rules were changed and she was told that people in the work-related activity group were only allowed to claim ESA for 12 months. By this point, Gill had already been on ESA for more than a year, so she lost her benefits immediately. She tried to appeal, but lost. This caused Gill and her husband a great deal of financial hardship. She still couldn’t work, and for three years they were forced to lead a ‘joyless existence’. She’s sure that the additional stress delayed her recovery.

In 2014, Gill felt well enough to start looking for work again. She attended interviews for more than 50 jobs, but was rejected for all of them. She strongly feels that employers discriminated against her due to her impairment, thinking she wouldn’t be capable of doing the job or that she would need expensive adaptations. She finally got a job at a company working in the disability sector – more mainstream organisations, including the NHS, overlooked her skills.

Gill now juggles work with dialysis, which she started earlier this year [2015]. She has been trying to get an electric wheelchair – using a walker after dialysis makes her arm bleed, and she would be able to get around with much less fatigue – but so far has had no success. She receives DLA which she uses to pay for a car; this is absolutely vital for her independence, but her entitlement will soon be reviewed and she is worried she will lose it.

Context
If you’ve met the storyteller, describe what happened here. Where did you meet them? What were they doing when you met them? If you had to describe one thing that really stood out about them, what would it be? This information will help the person writing this story to get a strong sense of the storyteller, even though they may have never have met them.

Key quotes
Add three of the strongest quotes from the interview here. In most cases, this will be one to describe the problem, one to describe how Scope helped and one to describe the difference our help has made.

Interview transcript
Paste your full interview transcript here. We need the exact words of the storyteller, in the first person. For example: “Without Face to Face, I would have nowhere to go for emotional support.” Not, “Mrs Blogs said she would have nowhere to go for emotional support if Face to Face did not exist.”

I was born with spina bifida, and things have got progressively worse over the past seven or eight years. I used to use a stick but now I use a walker; it’s much safer.
I applied for an electric wheelchair recently. I can get to work, but I can’t get to my local shops because there’s nowhere to park and I can only walk a very short distance. I’ve got a manual wheelchair and my husband pushes me [but it isn’t ideal]. My GP was all in favour, but because I can walk a very short distance I was told I didn’t need an electric wheelchair. I’d love to be able to go to the shops on my own.

Now [I’m on] dialysis, it has become a bit of a factor – my husband can’t come with me every time, it’s three times a week and he has his own life, and he’d have four hours of twiddling his thumbs if he goes with me. So I have to go straight from work, and I have to walk from the car park to the second floor. When I get there I’m absolutely knackered. I’ve got a vein in my arm where they put the dialysis in, and when you put your hands on your trolley to steady yourself soon afterwards, it starts bleeding again, and then I have to get myself to the car. It sounds bizarre, but it is a real problem. I get to the car and have to change the dressings, and it’s a hassle. I could really do with a little electric wheelchair, just so I can get to dialysis on my own and not worry about my arm bleeding.

You seem to have to be on your knees before [the state] will help, which doesn’t promote independence. If they did have that assistance, people could be out and about, doing their own thing, and they’d be much fitter and more mentally stimulated. I think if there was more support, they’d be able to get far more people back to work than the way they’re doing it now – and probably save money in the long run.

Departments don’t work together. The best person I see is my GP, because she sees me regularly, but the people making the decision on the wheelchair have never met me. They can’t see how difficult it is for me to walk.

Having my ESA cut
The 2010 [government] budget was absolutely awful. That was when they changed the goalposts so I couldn’t claim [ESA]. I had been claiming for a couple of years before that, after giving up work in 2009. I was put in the work-related activity group, which at that time wasn’t time-limited – it was reassessed every two or three years. I went through the ATOS assessment. I don’t have any problem with ATOS. I had a fine experience, apart from the fact that it’s not a doctor who looks at you; I don’t like telling a business person about my medical conditions.

I came out of my ATOS assessment with 15 points, and I was fine [to claim ESA]. I was hoping to get back to work, but then things [my health] got a lot worse. I asked to go into the support group, but they said no. Then [in 2010] they changed the rules so you could only be on it 365 days, and that was it. I stopped getting the benefit straight away on 30 April.

Losing my appeal
I rang them [the Department of Work and Pensions] and asked what I was to do about it, and they said you can appeal. We had to go through the whole rigmarole of Citizens’ Advice and giving more people information, and we went through a tribunal.

I argued on three points of the criteria. One of them was a continence issue, because I have a urostomy [a surgical procedure where urine passes through a specially made opening and into a bag, bypassing the bladder]. The reason I gave up work was that I started to have problems with my bowels as well. It can happen for a number of reasons, and if it happens your clothes are spoilt. You can’t sit in an office smelling of wee. But they said: ‘That’s up to you to sort out’. At one point, they asked me to prove that I had incontinence problems with my bowels. I was like, ‘What sort of proof do you need?’ We weren’t allowed to submit diary entries, or anything like that, and the doctor didn’t send my medical notes.

[The second point was about how far I could walk.] When I went to court, I’d dislocated my leg after a series of bad falls, so I was in a wheelchair and had a cricket splint on. But because I was in a wheelchair, they said I could mobilise 50 metres. The third thing was that I could move from a seated position without any help. I can’t do it without either my stick or somebody’s help, but they wouldn’t have that either. They disagreed with all my reasons, and when I said I was prepared to show them, they said it wasn’t necessary.

The decision was I could stay on ESA, but not the benefit section. They accepted that my health problems were enough to keep me off work, but they weren’t going to give me any benefit for it because I wasn’t entitled to it. So I was allowed to stay off work – I didn’t have to go to any more Work Capability Assessments or anything like that – but I wasn’t allowed to go into the support group and they wouldn’t pay me any benefits. It’s a very strange thing; I’ve never heard of it before.

They made me feel so bad about myself in that tribunal I came out in tears. They basically told me I was a liar. Benefit scrounger – that’s what I felt like when I came out. We spoke to a solicitor through Citizens’ Advice, but he didn’t come into court with us on the day, which I could have done with because they kept talking over me and confusing me. They were bullies, really.

It was a horrible experience. I’d never do it again. I’d rather be skint. I was constantly made to feel like they thought I was lying, that there was something I wasn’t telling them. They made me feel so small. I’ve never really felt disabled, I don’t do pity and all that stuff, but I really did feel disabled that day. I felt like I should just go home and kill myself basically, and not be a scourge on society.

Managing without ESA
It had taken two or three years to go through all that, so I didn’t appeal again. I should have done, but I didn’t because I was just tired of it all. It gets you down; it really gets you down. I was starting to get quite depressed. I’m quite a cheerful person, but I found I was concentrating far too much on the bad things in life. That’s what it makes you do. So I didn’t appeal, and we just struggled to manage – borrowing money and things like that. The hospital now think I need to have an ileostomy, but now I’ve dropped out of the system.

I’m in a position where I can go back to work now, but I couldn’t a couple of years ago when I was going through all the wrangling and court. My health has improved in the past year, apart from the dialysis, but [if it hadn’t, I still would have had no support].

Financial difficulty
It made everything much more difficult financially. We were down to just my husband’s wage. We had no new clothes for three years. I’m not a big fan of shopping, but we had nothing new for three years. We didn’t go out for any meals, didn’t have any takeaways, didn’t have any wine – none of that. I didn’t buy any birthday presents for three years, because I just couldn’t afford it. We had to cut out all that sort of stuff, and just exist. It’s joyless. I know you’re not allowed them as a benefit scrounger! But they do make you smile. We had to do things like turn the heating off because the bills were too nigh; not have the fire on, just putting more jumpers on. When you’re pre-dialysis one of the things you suffer from is being cold, so I was extra cold. It wasn’t a nice time. We suffered very much financially.

Hari kept working, but he had to look after me as well, and get me to my hospital appointments, and we don’t qualify for Carers’ Allowance. Hari has been very tired the past few years. If I had an electric wheelchair, he would have more time, and he’d be able to get a job with more hours, which would be a good thing. But because he has to spend so much time looking after me, he can’t do that.

The Jobcentre
I did go and see the disablement officer at the Jobcentre, but she was as much use as a chocolate teapot. When I walked in she asked me, ‘What exactly is it that you think I can do?’ I said, ‘Well, I’m hoping as a disabled person you can help me find a job.’ She said, ‘Well, we don’t really do that.  We help people with learning difficulties sort their CVs out and write letters, but that’s about it.’ I went to three meetings with her, but it was just a waste of time. I’ve never set foot in the Jobcentre since.

Further health problems
I’ve always had problems with my kidneys because of my spina bifida, and I’ve always known that I would have to go on dialysis one day. At the end of last year, I was told I needed to go to the pre-dialysis clinic, because my kidney function was down to 11%. I wrote to [the DWP] again at that point, writing to let them know that my circumstances had changed – when I first started last September, I was quite poorly. I wrote to them in October [2014], didn’t hear anything till new year’s eve, when someone rang me and said, ‘I’m very confused by this letter – you’re asking to go in the support group, but you’re already in the support group’. I said I wasn’t.

She said she’d get someone else to ring me in a couple of weeks. Nobody rang for a couple of months, so I rang them. They said, ‘Yes, you are in the support group.’ I asked for a letter to prove that I am, and I never received that. About March my husband changed his job, so I rang to let them know that, and they said, ‘You may be entitled to benefits, so we’ll send you out the form again.’ That form came, we filled it all in, sent all the supporting information in, and I’ve heard nothing. That was March. I haven’t rung them. I just can’t bear it. I hate ringing them – they have Vivaldi’s Four Seasons on when they put you on hold, and that tune now makes me feel physically sick.

Trying to find a job
I decided – oddly enough, just before I was told I’d have to start dialysis – that I’d had enough, and that I’d see if I could go back to work. It would be better for my mental health, because sitting at home is so boring, and I like working, I like being around people.

But it’s very difficult finding a job when you’ve got a disability. If you get two people come to an interview with the same skills, and one is disabled and the other isn’t, [an employer is] going to pick the able-bodied one – they’ll think they have to make a lot of adaptations for a disabled person. People aren’t allowed to ask you in interviews about it, which I think is wrong – how can they know what you need unless they ask you? I don’t need any adaptations, I just need to be able to get to my desk and not have a lot of clutter on the floor, because I have a walker for moving about.

I started applying for jobs last year, and I applied for over 80 admin jobs. I got interviews for most of them, so I had the skills, but I didn’t get any of them. I had over 50 interviews, and went to them all, but I never got a job. They all said to me, ‘You interview really well…’ but I’d never get the job. I think the disability put them off. This was all admin jobs in the NHS.

I actually wanted people to ask me [about my impairment] at interviews. I started telling them in the end – I’d say, ‘Just in case you’re wondering, I don’t need any adaptations if I come to work for, I just need to be able to get to my work station. They’ll say things like, ‘You’ll need to carry a lot of files, do you think you’ll be able to manage?’ And I’ll say, ‘I know for a fact you have trollies – that would be perfect for me.’ But they scribble something down, and you think ‘hmm…’

I went to do a medical admin course a couple of years ago. I took three exams, passed them all, and loved it. I was the only disabled person on my course; I was probably one of the oldest, and all the rest of them were gorgeous girlies, you know. Somebody said to me ‘It’s how you look in admin – it’s good if you can type fast and all the rest of it, but if you look the part…’ And they all got jobs instantly after that course, because they all look right. I’m a brilliant admin, I’d be an asset anywhere, but I don’t look the part.

Going back to work
At the beginning of June this year, I was looking for jobs on Linkedin and found a job for a company called OpCare, and I applied. It was a full time job, but I didn’t realise when I applied. When she rang to offer me an interview, I said, ‘I’ve just realised it’s a full time job; I can’t do a full time job I’m afraid’. She said, ‘Come in anyway and have a chat, because I like your CV.’ I went in and she offered me the job as part-time admin. She just liked my attitude.

It’s a brilliant company. They make artificial limbs for the NHS, so their building is perfect; it’s ramped and has lifts and big wide corridors. I had a review before I started of moving round the office to see if everything was okay and all that. I was thinking about it today, though – I can only work there because it’s such a good building, and because their attitude is good. Because they deal with [disabled] people they have that mental attitude as a company, and the boss is very understanding of all my health problems and disabilities.

A month after I started, I was told I would have to go on dialysis, and I thought, ‘Oh for god’s sake, it’s all going to go wrong again now. I’m going to have to stop working.’ I told my boss, and she was absolutely fine with it. She said, ‘If you can do afternoon dialysis and come to work in the morning, that’s fine’, and she let me have all the time off I needed. Now not every company would let me do that. I could have been working somewhere where they wouldn’t understand, and I was still in a probationary period so they could have just fired me. I’m quite lucky that a company has employed me, really.

In order to know I can get to work in the morning, I have to be up three hours before. I start work at 9.00, so I have to get up at 6.00 to check my body is in good working order that day and I can get out of the door. Some days it doesn’t, and I have to ring in sick – I really hate doing that. Again, I’m really lucky with the company.

Stress of dealing with the system
I’m managing both dialysis and work and it’s very tiring. But not to have to deal with the Department of Work and Pensions, and not having that stress, is much better for my health. It’s a stress that disabled people could really do without, especially if they’re too ill to work. And it delays people’s ability to go back to work. Not being able to sleep at night – having those money worries, and knowing you’ve got to go to a tribunal and that they’re going to pick holes in everything – you lie in bed with it churning in your head, and then you get up the next day and you’re tired before you even start.

And it annoys me that it’s such a waste of money. The award I had for DLA, in 2005 or 2006, was an award for life. My disability is not going to get any better – I’m a lot worse now than I was when I was awarded it. It infuriates me the amount of money they’re wasting on assessing people who were given life awards. Although I’ve always been disabled, I never claimed anything until then, because until then I was a lot fitter and my health has really deteriorated. I used to be a publican; I used to work all the hours God sent behind the bar, cleaning cooking. I was earning a good amount of money then, so I never claimed, because I thought it was unfair of me to claim because I didn’t need it. I wish I had now! I’ve always worked, from the age of 15, but that isn’t taken into account anywhere down the line.

Disability Living Allowance (DLA)
I’m still on DLA. That pays for my car; that’s my independence – and I’m terrified [about the change to PIP]. I haven’t been reassessed yet, and because I lost my ESA claim I’m just assuming that they’re going to look at PIP and say I’m lying, and then take it away from me. Then I wouldn’t be able to work, I wouldn’t be able to drive, I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. It’s another worry, but I’m trying not to think about it too much.

It’s [the car] everything. Absolutely everything. I can’t get anywhere on foot; I just can’t. I have to drive everywhere. And I have so many hospital appointments – as well as the dialysis and kidney problems I have a heart problem, I have orthotic appointments for shoes, there’s tests at the transplant clinic. You’ve got to get to all these appointments. And I wouldn’t be able to get to work without a car – I can't even walk to the end of the path outside. So my car is my life, really. I’d be completely housebound without it unless Harry took me everywhere, and then he’d have to give up work.

I love the independence driving gives me. I like being able to get to work in the morning and home again. I can get to dialysis on my own – it’s a struggle getting back, but it’s got to be done. I want to train to do dialysis at home, so I can fit it in with my life rather than going to hospital, but that’s a way off yet.

The Work Capability Assessment
The Work Capability Assessment needs to be reformed completely. The questions bear no relation to your specific disability. They asked me how high I can lift my arms when there’s nothing wrong with my arms, and asking me to add up two and two. ‘Can you reach out and lift that cup?’ Nothing that was relevant to my disability – no mention of continence, or walking long distances, or whether I could get up if I fell. I didn’t feel they asked me the sort of questions that reflected the problems I was having. I was asked nothing about incontinence, and that was the main reason I had to give up work.

[The assessor had] never heard of spina bifida; she didn’t know how to spell it. The man who assessed me for my DLA was an actual doctor, who knew about spina bifida, and came to my home [unlike in the current system]. You can’t take a blanket view of disability; you have to look at each case individually. I like to talk about my good days rather than my bad days, but I was told absolutely not to do that. [I was later told] I should have kept a diary, and that can have a higher success rate – but most people unfortunately are just honest, and that gets you nowhere.

Benefits of employing disabled people
I think a lot of people who don’t have any experience of disability would maybe not knowingly discriminate against a disabled person, but would probably pick and able-bodied person over a disabled person. Unless they’ve got experience of disability, I maintain that most employers will pick an able-bodied person. If you don’t have to deal with disability, you’re probably not going to.

It’s a good thing to have a disabled employee, I think, because you get to see things from a different perspective – and everyone needs to see things from a different perspective now and again.

Extra costs
The continence thing – pads and what have you. I’ve only recently gone to the local clinic about that, but the stuff they provide is just so awful – it’s like something you’d have got in the 60s – so I buy my own at the moment. I have an awful lot of prescriptions, but I get free prescriptions. My wheelchair is provided, but they still refuse to provide me with an electric wheelchair. I might have to buy one, because I could do with one. I’m not lying! I’m going to keep applying and see what they say.

I have trouble with shoes; I can never get shoes to fit my feet. I have no feeling in my feet, so I like canvas pumps – if I wear proper shoes they rub, and I don’t know they they’ve rubbed, and I get infections. I had endocarditis a few years ago, which is a disease of the lining of the heart, and that was because of a blister on my heel that I didn’t know about. I was in hospital for a month. And I buy a lot of shoes, because I don’t walk on the sole, I walk on the side, so it wears them out. But my lovely company that I work for has an orthotics department, and they are going to have a pair of shoes made for me. They don’t like pumps at work!

What I needed
It’s dead simple – they should not have changed the ESA [work-related activity group] to 365 days, when they used to reassess people every two years. I’d just been reassessed when the rules were changed, and I was taken off it. If I’d been able to stay on it a bit longer, I would have been well enough to have come off it.
Whereas instead, everything lingered for an extra year or so because of the stress of it all. [If that investment in me had been made], they’d have been better off in the long run. Hassling people constantly, and forcing them to worry, just makes things worse. I’m a very positive person – if it can bring me down, it can bring anyone down. People have killed themselves over this, and I can understand their despair. I feel physically sick when one of those envelopes drops through the door.

If you look at the government’s figures, mine would be a success story – I went off ESA, and eventually I got into work. But they drove me to such depression and despair. I ended up so fearful by the end of it. I’d much rather be able to focus on my dialysis, but I can’t survive without working, and I’ve been offered absolutely no help whatsoever. I know why the government did it – [to stop benefit fraud] – and that’s fine but they gone about it in a cruel and heartless way.  It is now a completely unfair system.

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Monday, 28 December 2015

2015 - A trying year

My ability to always try and look on the positive side has taken a bit of a battering during 2015, as its been a pretty crap year all round.

I started the year knowing that my best friend in the world was terminally ill, so New Year celebrations were a bit muted to say the least.  In January I visited her in the hospice where we had lots of laughs, lots of tears and lots of hand holding.  I hated leaving her.  At the end of January, the girlies and I visited a snowy Little Easton to spend Mel's birthday with her, her parents & Jacqueline. We shared memories, champagne, cake and laughs.  Even Mel had a glass of champers, as she said, it wouldn't do her any harm now.


Stella, Mel's Mum Joyce, Karen, Carole, Me and Mel wearing the daft hat I bought her!

On 2nd February she passed away with Peter and her parents by her side.  The world shifted a little that night and things would never be the same again.  Her funeral was held a month later.  Mel had left strict instructions of exactly how she wanted her funeral to be and it took a month for everything to come together.  It was an incredibly sad day.

A few months later I was told my pre-dialysis days were over and now I was to start dialysis.  Its been a scary and worrying time. and I don't know how I'd have coped without Hari's support, he's done everything for me and taken a lot of miserable moods from me on the chin.  Although I've been going to the training unit in Altrincham 3 times a week since August I've still not been able to do my own needles yet, although on the positive side, I am now able to line the machine, put it into test and preparation, set my table up with sterile bits & pieces to go onto the machine.  Once needles are in and flows are good I am able (with supervision) to connect everything up and get treatment started.  I then log all my machine readings, know when my hot flush is coming and keep an eye on my needle pressures.  After 4 hours I know how to set my table up to come off the machine and again with supervision, how to stop & disconnect everything in the correct order, take my needles out and put my dresssings on then again do my obs.  So apart from the needles being put in, I'm getting there and thinking how terrified I was back in August, I think I'm doing well.  The nurses says I am, but they have to....

The only other negativity this year has been the growing distance between me and my family.  Not physical distance, I only live 52.7 miles away from them, but y'know 'distance'.  I had hoped when I moved to Manchester I would see loads more of them.  When I lived down south I saw them more than I do now.  Back then I used to travel home for every family celebration and occasion and loved doing it. Births (there were a lot of them!), birthdays, weddings, parties, everything - I was there.  The distance I've lived from them has never been an issue to me, I have a car so I travel, its that simple.  When my Dad got ill, I'd just met my now husband and he wanted me to move up to be with him.  Knowing Dad was ill and wanting to be with my family, it was a no brainer so I moved.
Now I'm know these things work both ways, and maybe I should visit them too, and I should.  I made a pledge with myself last year to visit more, then with losing Mel and the coming of dialysis, life has over taken me a bit.  Its taken me a huge chunk of this year to regain control of my life after it spiralled away from me.  Again, on the positive side I do get up at least once a month to see my Mum, which I wish could be more but it cant cos of work and dialysis committments.  I'm hoping Mum might come and stay here this coming year.

I look at friends of mine and their relationships with their brothers and sisters and most of them are separated by distances, and most a lot bigger than between Manchester/Blackpool and everyone travels to visit, everyone loves seeing their siblings, nephews & nieces, and I get jealous and sad about mine.  I don't know why there is this huge gap, I sadly didn't have children and they all did, I moved away from home and they all stayed put.  But to me both of these things are just life, surely?
I have a huge family and when I was younger I used to think that you could never be lonely in such a huge family but I've discovered you can be, very lonely indeed.  I see posts all the time on facebook which just show me just how far away I am from them and it makes me really sad.  I miss being included and I really miss spending Christmas's at home.
It is what it is though I guess but I am going to try and do more next year, health willing.




There have been many positives this year though.  The main one being that I went back to work in July after 6 years.  I love my job.  I'm just an admin at a health care company but I love seeing people every day, feeling like I matter, doing things to help people.  It is tiring and with dialysis 2 of those working days, I am pretty knackered but I love it.
Hari also got a new job, leaving the crap job with M & S (or Marks & Scuffs/Misery & Suffering as he called it) and working for a local school where he is valued.
With a new job comes a better situation financially, and at last we can buy such luxuries as new clothes, shoes and nicer food.... I love nice food.

I've also managed to spend a bit of time with my girlies.  Karen has been up to Manchester, and we've been down to Essex a couple of times.  It's obviously hugely different now Mel isn't there but she's all around us all when we're in the places we all used to go.  Its still lovely as always to see Stella, Carole & sometimes Karen when she's over from Ireland.

So as 2015 leaves us I am happy to see it go, I shall wave it off getting ready to close the door in its face and hoping it doesn't visit again.  In 2016 I hope to see more of my family, to continue loving my job and to remember Mel constantly, fondly and with more smiles and less tears.  I also hope that Hari and I might be able to get a holiday in, I think somewhere hot is out of the question cos of dialysis restrictions but a lil cottage by the sea somewhere might be nice.  I hope to cry less tears in 2016 (I could have drowned in the amount I cried this year)
But my big hope is for a kidney transplant, although its majorly major surgery but the conclusion to my current health worries.  So fingers crossed.

Friday, 14 August 2015

My dialysis journey begins

Last week I went to pre-dialysis. Acvtually for the past 3 Fridays I've been sat in that clinic waiting to have 6 tubes of blood on each occassion syphoned off.  It turns out my eGFR has decided to go down from 10 to 8 and then to 7.  Dr Hurst said she thought it may be a 'rogue' reading from the lab initially although I didn't believe her, and sure enough it wasn't.

So.  In the past 2 weeks, after what feels like a thousand phonecalls with different departments, nurses, etc, a few days off work feeling awful with the symptoms of renal failure, and urine tests, umpteen blood tests, I am now set right on my path to dialysis.

I honestly don't know how I feel about this, and trust me everyone keeps asking me. I must have been asked by everyone I've spoken to.
I get quite tearful (today is a very tearful day) when I think how my health has deteriorated but I do try to remember how awesome life was when I was fitter,  and that helps.
I'm worried about the practicalities of life on a dialysis machine.  The travelling to the hospital 3 times a week in all weathers, all seasons, battling christmas shopping traffic etc, that worries me. Learning to dialylize my own body worries me but I must admit this also intrigues me as I've always enjoyed knowing about my own physiology.
The thing that worries me most and I'm already getting anxious about is having needles put in my arm on a regular basis and sitting there for 4 hours at a time with blood pumping through tubes strapped to my arm and going into a machine.  I know all this just replicates what's going on inside a healthy body but there's a bloody good reason those tubes are naturally on the inside, seeing everything on the outside is going to freak me out, I know it will.

I could really do with one of them bottle of wine/non-stop talking nights with Mel as I feel a bit lost & alone with it all.  Hari worries about me so I can't talk to him because he will then worry and I'll have his and my worry to cope with.  I need my Lemony to talk to, confide in and get support from.  My other girlies are great, obviously but I do so miss Melanie.  I know she'd give me a gentle verbal slap in just the right places.

Work have been great but it doesn't stop me feeling like a shirker.  Talk about crap timings.  I had a whole year at the pre-dialysis stage where I could have been working but as soon as I get into my stride at a job I enjoy, this happens.  Today is a shit day, I feel crap, dizzy, sick, and my kidneys are hurting like bastards but I would much rather be at work than sat at home feeling like this.

Although the dialysis unit is at Altrincham, I have to have my first 2 sessions at MRI because if anything is going to go wrong, there are more medical staff at MRI!  My sessions are Monday & Wednesday 17th & 19th August (the 19th always sticks in my mind as it was my Nana & Grandad's birthdays) and I'll go on the machine for 2 hours at a time.  I can't eat while on it at first incase I have sickness.  I'll then start at the Altrincham unit from Friday or Saturday.  I've requested afternoon slots on Tuesdays, Thursdays & Saturdays so hopefully I can go to work in the mornings.  Those days of work and dialysis are going to be tiring.  I expect to spend every Sunday from now on sleeping!!

I know the whole thing is a process and there really is no choice.  From what I've read the choice is controlling your diet and waiting until your kidneys pack up and you die.  I don't want to do that.  Its my natural instinct to fight and ultimately conquer.
I AM looking on the whole thing as a challenge; as an adventure.  But it is a bloody terrifying  adventure.  They do say however that what doesn't scare you isn't worth doing....

Friday, 15 May 2015

Loopogram

Today started ok, the sun was shining and I woke up feeling more positive than yesterday.
After shopping in Aldi where we saw the very lovely Julie & her very big baby bump we came home for a cuppa and then went off to MRI for "water soluble contrast enema" - lovely.

I got to the X-ray department and was told to get undressed and into a gown and then I'd be taken through to have dye injected into my conduit.

Oh ohhhh.  I'd been sent the wrong letter and this was THE dreaded Loopogram the transplant surgeon mentioned he wanted me to have.   The same loopogram test that I'd had done once before back in the late 1990's.  The whole experience was horrendous.

A loopogram is a to see why a stoma isn't working as it should.  A stoma is a small piece of ileum brought to the skins surface and where urine/faeces - in my case urine - leaves the body.  My stomas, luckily, was working beautifully but my transplant surgeon wanted to know how long the urethra was from my kidneys to my stoma as he needed this information prior to a transplant being done.

'Be brave' my inner voice whispered and in I went.
I lay on the bed and the radiologist removed my bag.  Seconds later I was already thinking about giving up being brave.  Sod being brave.  Then she inserted her little finger into my stoma my bottom lip started to wobble!  God I am a wuss.
Unfortunately I saw the catheter tube she wanted to insert into my stoma and it may as well have been a bleedin hosepipe, it seemed enormous.  My stoma is about the size of a 10p piece with a small hole in the centre.  The radiologist-man helper was sent out to get a smaller tube, a size 8 was used and she started to insert it.  I started to cry.

The feeling is a bit odd to say the least.  Every atom in my body wanted to shout 'get off me/out of me'.  It felt so wrong to have someone ferreting around inside my stoma.  I asked her to stop, they went and got Hari and he held my hand until she'd finally got the tube inside and started injecting the contrast.  Pain is good, pain I can handle but this uncomfortableness is just skin crawling, squeamish, nauseating and my heart was racing like a crazy person.  And then there is the actual xray machine, about 2 inches away from my stoma.  A piece of equipment the size of an average elephant suspended from the ceiling and moving perilously close to my stomach.  The whole experience was horrendous.  She'd kept saying "You're doing really well" to me but I knew it was just part of the speill; like asking if you want fries in McDonalds.  I knew my getting upset was pissing her off, I could tell I was being a hassle and that didnt help my with my insecurity.

20 minutes after the whole thing started, it was over.  I was covered in a soggy mess of wee, sticky constrast liquid and sodden towels & padding and I now had to put a fresh bag on sitting bolt upright on an x-ray table; not easy.  But I once changed my bag whilst drunk and standing on one leg in a filthy toilet in Greece so y'know, thats how it goes.

Tonight I will be having a glass of wine and sod the kidneys.  Just for tonight though...

I never want to hear the word Loopogram EVER again!!