Tomorrow I must suffer the indignity of being reassessed to see whether I’m still eligible for the Personal Independence Payment money I was awarded two years ago. Because my two incurable and degenerative health conditions must miraculously have gone away, right? Because all the anxiety and depression they bring with them doesn’t matter as long as I don’t go postal, right? Because I don’t need money for extra heating in my place to try and keep my lungs as happy as possible during the coldest months of the year, do I? Because being able to afford better quality food in greater quantities has no effect on a person’s wellbeing, eh? Because being able to buy food at supermarket prices in larger, more economical loads, is a piece of piss without the car which prevents me being unable to breathe from carrying all the bags, right?
I’m terrified they’ll take my extra help away. This current government has been accused by the United Nations of human rights abuses in terms of how they process and treat the disabled so compassion and rationality seems unlikely to have any part in the process I have to undergo tomorrow. It’s a pathetic, spiteful government still trying (and failing) to balance the economy by throwing ill people off the benefit schemes designed to improve the quality of life for ill people rather than chasing after the tax-avoiding super-rich bastards who have actually been ruining this country’s economy for years.
I’m so tired, still jet-lagged (don’t tell them that, cripples aren’t allowed to have holidays or enjoy themselves) and don’t feel like I have the energy for a fight on this one. I’ve had a great time last month, I found romance and saw amazing sights, maybe I should be a good citizen and conveniently die now and stop costing the government any more money.
It’s a long day tomorrow too as, ironically, one of my meds deliveries will be arriving at just after sun-up, then I have to go to the hospital to trial a new drug to replace the saline I can no longer tolerate along with my regular nebulised antibiotic, then I need to order more ‘ordinary’ meds from my GP then I have this insulting and frightening assessment. Oh fucking joy. Keep me away from train lines and high bridges for a while please. Lest I throw anyone who looks like a Tory cunt under an express train or down onto a major highway.