Corsets and Counselling

I went to see my GP on Friday. Lovely GP has gone on her maternity leave. This could get confusing because my GP is lovely too and that's altogether too many lovelies. It's his practice though, so Top Dog GP it is. The name confusion is apt as I had to go and see Top Dog GP to sort out the inevitable hospital appointment inspired confusion. This lot of confusion is particularly complicated as it's arising from at least three different hospitals. 

Top Dog GP started laughing as soon as I mentioned the hospital inspired confusion so I knew he'd had at least one letter. When I said I'd seen the registrar rather than consultant at Freak Clinic he said that explained it all and suggested it might perhaps not be the service to medical education I'd thought I was offering as the registrar won't have slept for at least 5 nights due to his 'OMG complicated patient' induced terror.  I'm just counting myself lucky for only having lost an armful of blood in the name of medical education. Top Dog GP is yet to have the latest missive from Leeds but that should keep him giggling for at least half a day...the bendy specialist is known for his unique style of letter writing. 

We went over the whole Oxycontin thing and Top Dog GP also expressed concerns about the long term viability of my 'No Oxycontin' plan. He's right, as plans go it's not up there with the best, but doctors urging pain relief upon me is such a novel concept after all those years not being diagnosed that it perhaps doesn't register with me quite as it should. Still, I got the prescription I needed to continue with the 'No Oxycontin' insanity. I'd originally declined the strongest dose codeine and paracetamol because I wanted to see if the lower dose of 15/500 mg was effective enough. It sort of was but has been out of stock for weeks now so 30/500 mg it will have to be. 

That, and a depressing conversation about the costs 'elf n safety have added to the new practice building was pretty much that. £220 for a sink that's not allowed to have a plug in it because of some mysterious health and safety, no plugs in consulting rooms concept. The ConDem government could've had that £220 to help with the budget deficit if health and safety let the NHS order from B&Q like everyone else.

A few weeks ago I initiated divorce proceedings against my hips. Fortunately the orthopeadic version of Relate, the physio terrorists, have been doing their job and both parties are at least willing to enter discussions. A unifying subject is disgust in being given the medical kind of corset instead of the pretty kind. 




Disgusting or not the corset thing is also doing it's job and attending all death walks. Even if it does mean multiple dislocations putting the stupid thing on. I did think it might be a sign not to go death walking when I heard the unmistakable 'pop, pop, pop' as multiple joints hurtle in and out of their sockets but then got really distracted by my urgent need for chewing gum, and then I was moving anyway and had to stick to the rule that it is only acceptable to be so stoned mid afternoon if it's in aid of something unpleasant. So off I went. 


It was indeed unpleasant, but at least it didn't rain. Pirouetting whilst wildly windmilling your arms is somehow even less cool in the rain, if it is even possible to be less cool than spinning uncontrollably on the spot in a public place. 


It's working though. I'm not telling my joints it is as they'll immediately go on a strike so stubborn even BA wouldn't know how to break it, but it is. All that walking face first into doorframes and excruciating pain is worth it for increased function, even if my muscles have yet to get the message.  I knew using Royal Mail to send it was a mistake...

Sauce for the Goose...

Like most genuine benefit claimants I fear doing anything, even accidentally, which might potentially lead me to being accused of benefit fraud. "It's just not worth getting caught" is a phrase I hear often from other claimants who may have been offered odd hours of cash in hand work. The political campaigns against benefit fraud have obviously had an impact upon claimants who can't work full time even if they wanted to. 

"The benefits don't have to know" is something I've been told frequently since the MP's expenses scandal. Not as you might think from other claimants...those that I know are pretty much all still too scared of the potential of being investigated for fraud. I'm being told this by taxpayers, mostly those in the professions, even on one memorable occasion by one of my doctors. 

Seems like taxpayers are starting to realise that the benefits system might not be providing quite what they think it should provide to genuine claimants. Fed up with hearing about outrageous expenses claims from MP's and benefits claimants unable to access the support they need attitudes are changing. "I'm not paying so much tax so you can go without" is another expression I'm hearing more and more frequently.
 

Lovely Landlords

It turns out that having a mobility scooter that you can't use because you've got nowhere at home to store it is far more frustrating than not having a mobility scooter at all. Especially in this glorious 'picnics should be obligatory' sort of weather. Who'da thunk that? 

 Scooter photo taken several years ago at a local food festival

Fortunately thanks to the wonder that is Twitter a builder is due imminently to give me a quote for building a ramp and installing a storage shed of some description.  The builder hunt has not gone too well up to this point. My neighbour had to turn down the job because they are fully booked up for the next few months and it's too big a job to get done in a few hours as a foreigner as they were hoping. The other builder I spoke to and arranged a time to come round for an estimate simply never turned up. I don't care how good a builder he might be, if he can't turn up or make a phone call to explain why not I don't want him working for me. 

In anticipation of at least one estimate I phoned my landlords to check they are happy for me to install a ramp. Private landlords frequently receive a bad press as there are still far too many Rachman's about. My landlords couldn't be more different, they rent properties for fair market values and crucially keep their properties well maintained. They are such good landlords that my upstairs neighbour moved from 3 houses down the road where her previous landlord had been quite happy to leave holes in the roof for years.

There tends to be much fuss in the press about the overall cost of Housing Benefit, and concept of 'free' local authority housing. What isn't usually mentioned in the press is that most people are forced to rent in the private sector because of the lack of local authority properties, and that renting in the private sector means paying commercial rents. It is an even worse situation for disabled people as there are very few adapted local authority properties and of those there are, most are restricted to people over 65.  

I was incredibly lucky to find an affordable ground floor property and even more lucky with my landlords. When I spoke to them to ask permission for the ramp they immediately said yes, and wanted to know who would be footing the bill. They expected the work to be funded and carried out by Social Services so that it wouldn't cost me. I could apply to Social Services for the work to be done but waiting times are exceptionally long for such adaptations and I want to be able to use the scooter this year not wait until next. Some local authorities have waiting times of up to 8 years for adaptations such as ramps.

I've also had previous experience of Social Services idea of adaptations which has been overwhelmingly negative. Workmen, when they eventually turn up tend to scratch their heads and refuse to do work because it's 'too complicated'. The work that they do do is often of a dangerously low standard; many years ago Social Services fitted an extra banister rail to help me go up and down the stairs. It looked nice...until it completely pulled out of the wall after a few weeks of use. I only weigh about 7 stone so that was impressively poor workmanship! 


Once my landlords heard it would be me footing the bill they told me to get a couple of quotes and that they are sure they'll be able to do the work for a lower cost themselves. They even offered to store my scooter in their garage until the work is done. Let's hear it for lovely landlords! 

Bog Off-Happy 2nd blogiversary


On Sunday I went to see Cirque du Soleil at the Liverpool Echo Arena, featured in one of the earliest Bog Off blogs. I thought it would be interesting to see how well the accessible toilets at the Echo Arena are holding up some two years later and so had a rummage through the Bog Off archives. 

It transpires that the very first Bog Off was two years ago today. A night out in Chester for Roland's birthday meant I found myself in one of the most dangerous disabled toilets I've ever been in. Red and I were seeking somewhere to reapply our lipgloss and after much fuss trying to track down a member of staff with a key to access the toilet we stared in horror at the scene before us. The floor was soaking wet, chairs and boxes of alcohol were piled up obstructing access and of course there was nowhere to apply lipgloss. In retrospect we should just have nicked the champagne and be done with it, but instead the idea of Bog Off was born.

Since then there have been some 30 odd examples of Bog Off awful disabled toilets, either toilets I've visited myself or examples sent in by readers. There have been one or two examples of outstanding accessible toilets, those at the Scottish Parliament building and Copenhagen airport being the most memorable, but most Bog Off's have been a fair and representative example of the appallingly low standards of most 'accessible' toilet facilities. There is even a special meeja luvvy section of Bog Off featuring photos taken by secret sources at The Guardian's offices and BBC Manchester. There was even a special Bog Off Down Under taken in Hobart, Tasmania by fellow bendy blogger Veronica Foale.


The disabled toilets at Liverpool Echo Arena still look much the same as they did 2 years ago. Built to minimum DDA standards they are too small for most people, making transfers a cramped experience. I'm not sure how those needing a personal assistant to stay in the toilet with them would fare. The toilet doors open directly onto the main pedestrian area of the arena, and as is typical there is no privacy curtain. A privacy curtain is such a simple and very cheap adaptation to include but for some reason they are rarely included in disabled toilets. Privacy curtains are important to enable a personal assistant either to wait outside the toilet without having to expose the disabled person to public view or to remain in the toilet with the person yet give some semblance of privacy. 

The good points are that the Echo Arena has clearly made access a significant part of it's design and there are disabled toilets adjacent to every doorway to the arena which means no queues. They have also made an effort with design using bright colours. Despite that the toilets have a very gloomy appearance when inside them.


The main problem with these toilets is that they stink. I mean really, really stink. The smell hits you in the face as you open the door. There was a pungent aroma of urine and faeces when I visited the spotlessly clean toilet before the start of the show, but by the end of the show the smell was so bad I was gagging.

 The good news is that Echo Arena included mirrors in their disabled toilets. The bad news is you'll be retching so much from the foul stench that you won't hang around long enough to use it! 





If anyone would like to contribute to Bog Off photos and a description can be sent to benefitscroungingscum@hotmail.co.uk Copyright or a photo credit will always be included.





Comedy without Cruelty

An excellent blog from outside the disabilisphere about the current fad for comedians such as Frankie Boyle or Jimmy Carr to use 'humour' as a way of excusing disablist abuse.



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