Baked Beans, Boobs, Bovril & Benefit Fraud
I'm smack in the middle of the few good days each month my hormones are at that mysteriously perfect balance to make me less bendy and floppy than usual. Such good days that I've been to see a friend for a cuppa in the evening, managed to stay out until nearly 10pm and still function enough the next day to go for tea with another friend, deathwalk without being rescued and dip my boob into cheesy baked beans. Ok, so that last one was a bit of an unintentional fail, but still, good days, hurrah! Unfortunately the downside to all this hormonal happiness is that unless the bendy body gods smile down upon me (maybe because they were amused by the cheesy bean boob incident) I'll be crashing back into full on floppyness just in time for my Big Society sponsored trip to London. But that's not til next week, so I'll worry about that on Sunday. For now, it's time to celebrate Spring and marginally less springy joints than usual.Yesterday a friend came to visit, and as tends to happen in my flat we found ourselves sitting outside the back door with a cuppa and a smoke. Small towns are universally special so when a lady in one of the houses backing on to mine started a conversation with us by hanging out of the window we didn't bat an eyelid. Not even when her elderly mother insisted on climbing two flights of stairs so she could see us and join in the fun. It's like being a celebrity without the celebrity bit. Fortunately these women didn't appear to have linked my face with the page 3 spread the local paper ran about my arse, unlike the staff in Sainsbury's, several of whom asked for my autograph. As my writing hand wrist is still fubard I'm planning an ink imprint of my arse to hand out to such interested parties.* So, we chatted away to the not at all eccentric mother and daughter, who was apparently pulling a 'sickie' from work.
Fortunately for these neighbours they don't seem to be able to see as far into my flat through the skylights as I'd thought, so I was surprised when they asked why I wasn't at work. Not wanting to explain my medical history by shouting up to the third floor ladies I simply mumbled something about working at home and off they went.
All this good day cure business makes me a bit paranoid about being reported to the DWP for benefit fraud, as many people with invisible illnesses or disabilities are by neighbours who can't see anything so assume it must not be there. At 3am this morning I was sleepless and the 50 trillionth dvd replay of Harry Potter wasn't doing it's usual trick of sending me to the land of nod so I grudgingly acknowledged the need for additional pain relief and stumbled through to the kitchen. BendyCat remained in bed as she still fears the nighttime loving slugs will break out of our old flat and find her here, so it was just me to enjoy the peaceful, starlit night and the sound of seabirds cawing. As I stood unaided on the doorstep, inhaling illegal pain relief to be followed up with an oramorph chaser I decided I was clearly so cured it was time to report myself to the DWP for being 'fit for work'. Y'know, cos everyone who's not ill or disabled feels the need to neck morphine in the garden at 3am whilst observing the long term results of the outdoor vomit experiment**
But, I don't look sick. Not most of the time. So on good days even I try to fool myself that I'm not.
*No, not really. Although I may change my mind in a year once benefits cuts take effect ;)
** Bovril washes away quickest. Tea with milk stains the paving and for some unknown reason apple adheres itself more stubbornly than dried out weetabix to pavement and establishes squatters rights.
14 comments:
I do it too. On a good day when I can walk almost normally I worry that someone will report me for being a faker. It's a rubbish way to live
I fool myself into thinking I'm able to go back to work sometimes too.
The days when I'm not pumping myself full of Codeine and sticking my head down the loo, or sitting on it for an extended period of time while it all comes out of me. Or when I'm sat on the loo, hurling into the bath because everything, very kindly, has decided it's all going to happen together.
Those days when I'm not too tired to do a bit of housework, or take the dog out for a little jaunt around the block. Those rare "good days" which pop their little heads up maybe a couple of times a month.
Then, within a day, or two on a promising run I'm back to square one thinking, "why did I fool myself like that, I know I can't work again even though it would be nice too." When it knocks me back down with all the power of a cannon being fired.
Oh well, here's to the next "good day", I'll look forward to it when I can think I've finally turned a corner and I am better again.......if only :) xx
My dear Bendy, I am so glad to see that you do have good days. It makes me wonder, though - if your 'Bendiness' is apparently affected by your hormones (Hormones = the wails of unpaid prostitutes) - wouldn't a Birth Control Pill (some BCP's dampen hormone swings - if not completely flatten them out) tend to be of benefit to you?
It is nice even if its just for few hours to pretend to ourselves we are cured, although normality soon returns. I am glad you had a couple of nearly 'normal' days.
Hugs
I do know what you all mean about being reported, I now look around to see if anyone is standing across the road, and it is a shitty way to live.
I was reported twice by somebody on both occasions I was in hospital once for a year being pulled back into shape, and the second time they re-broke both my legs put in pins. According to the person who reported me I was working nights on the taxi's.
The third time they reported me I had a phone call saying the person who had made the reports had been given an official warning for harassment, six months later a friend said that my next door neighbor was the person, she was a drug addict living with her boy friend who was then charged with rent and council tax fraud, it would be funny if is was not so bloody sad.
Don't knock being a celeb, joking aside.
As much as the reasons for it are a bit crap, if it helps others, and take it from me, it does, the effort is worth it.
Thank you, btw.
Bendy,
I'm so very glad to hear that you still have some good days. I also need the occasional puff of illegal pain medication to get myself to sleep. And I definitely think the Bendy Gods will smile on you for the baked bean boob blunder. Only problem is, they're going to hope for more of the same... Next time try dislocating a shoulder while applying very red lipstick... That should keep the Gods amused!
Hugs, and Happy Thoughts,
BubbleGirl
Bendy,
I'm so very glad to hear that you still have some good days. I also need the occasional puff of illegal pain medication to get myself to sleep. And I definitely think the Bendy Gods will smile on you for the baked bean boob blunder. Only problem is, they're going to hope for more of the same... Next time try dislocating a shoulder while applying very red lipstick... That should keep the Gods amused!
Hugs, and Happy Thoughts,
BubbleGirl
You've got no idea how glad I am that you've had a few good days.
I'm the same about worrying on good days. The other day I made it to the shop, not once, but twice! It did enter my head "what if..?".
And oddly on the word verification below, it's asking me to enter "wory"...
It never ceases to amaze me how nervous we get despite our incapacity whilst I know of others 'on the sick' who post on Facebook of their daily hacks with their horses!
I find it most ironic that we feel guilty for having a few good days and then at our most vulnerable. Hardly conducive to good health. I'm glad you had a few good days (although I know they were followed by a pretty horrendous night).
As an aside, I know I'm going to regret this but, what was the great outdoor vomit experiment?
Much love
Debs x
Today's headliner's in The Sun make us disabled just, suffering with alchoholism, a bit of a bad back, or junkies. So I expect when the day comes that my indefinite award is removed for dla, I will be so £$%^ faced I won't realise eh!
I think it is only the innocent and disabled like us that feel guilty for being in receipt of any benefit at all frankly. What people like the above mentioned papers don't seem to realise is that when they say the benefit is given without even seeing a doctor, what is given is evidence from numerous qualified doctors, even consultants just not unqualified to comment ATOS doctors.
So don't feel guilty, ehlers danlos is a rubbish condition to have. If you occassionally smile, and have a pain free moment enjoy it because as sure as eggs is eggs it won't last.
Waiting patiently to hear the baked bean saga.....
Its good to hear about you I know all the campaigning is important but I miss hearing about how you are doing.
Loving and leaving you with orders not to ever ever feel guilty ever again.
Nice to hear you have the occasional good day. Shame they can't last longer!
What were you in the paper for this time? Have you got a link?
Those days when I'm not too tired to do a bit of housework, or take the dog out for a little jaunt around the block. Those rare "good days" which pop their little heads up maybe a couple of times a month.
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