Life in the straightjacket

It's 4 years since I started this blog and really I don't have time for it anymore. It's been sort of cathartic writing a lot of the stuff but the creative side of my life has now been taken over by my new occupation, millinery. Not new as in a new skill, I've been doing it off and on for almost 15 years but only now have I taken it on full time. Relieved of running our building company since WH's accident, there really isn't much company left anyhow since his enforced retirement, I have time and energy to do what I want to do.

So hats it is then. I'll have a web site soon (when I get time for THAT) but as for this blog I'm afraid it's curtains. Thanks for reading and have a nice life, mine is definitely good right now.

I thought that was only when you are enjoying yourself. Not true!

I'm STILL recovering from the nasty bug which I have now had since the beginning of November. My GP was forthright, OK I agree with the other chap you saw you have had Swine Flu. Well stone the crows, he hadn't told me that so I was gobsmacked to say the least. It did sort of explain why I am still suffering.

Anyway enough of me, it's been really hectic around here. This week we finally got got Mother in Law into a nursing home after several false starts and a run in with her newly appointed social worker who scuppered the whole thing more than once. Devon has a shortage of social workers so they are obviously now appointing chairs instead. WH got more sense from the chair than that guy spoke. It took 3 hours to fill out a form and if we didn't understand it the erstwhile social worker certainly didn't. If it hadn't been for the staff nurse from the PCT we would still be there now, a whole week later.

WH had his fractures reviewed and it was bad news, more time off work and he has little use in his right hand. More physio was called for, so feeling more hopeful he went to his next appointment. The physiotherapist told him to carry on doing the exercises he already was doing, no examination and nothing whilst he was there to check was he was doing, nothing, Nada. He could have had the consult over the phone and saved everyone some time and the NHS some money because God Knows they've wasted enough telling him absolutely nothing.

Meanwhile we've been planning a new strategy for this summer. We have to have some income from something, he hasn't worked since August and I haven't worked outside the home for 18 years now so we're going to do something together, each doing the bits we are able to. So far it's all under wraps but suffice to say we have bought a caravan, a temporary home for our new career and have been beavering away to prepare, OK not as hard as most people would beaver away but a little bit between rests, naps and doctors appointments.

More later.

I've had pneumonia for the last 3 weeks. On my second lot of antibiotics, the rot seems to have stopped and I am actually improving now which makes for a nice change. Once again however I am at the mercy of medication which I take 4 times a day and which must be followed by food an hour later. I tried to do it without the food and oh boy did I feel bad. So food it is, every six hours. Unable to taste anything since well before Christmas I've only been eating the barest minimum of a fairly boring diet of ham sandwiches, jelly and fruit, ice cream and the odd oven chip when WH has been catering for himself.

I've not been up to cooking, the last time I did cook was Boxing Day. So on Saturday WH really did fancy something different and something that he didn't have to provide himself so suggested an Indian meal. I remembered that we had had a new takeaway open in a neighbouring village last autumn, their menu had looked anything but the usual run of the mill and what is more they offered free delivery up to a mile radius. WH left the ordering to me, not a brilliant move as I have very little voice right now and they did have somewhat of a problem understanding me, but he was hospital visiting yet again, so I made the best of it and hoped.

Twenty minutes late the door bell rang and a charming chap whom I vaguely recognised apologised for the delay, reduced the bill and gave me a free bottle of wine, a perfectly respectable Pinot Grigio. By now we were both hungry, my meds had been taken almost 2 hours before and the need for food was getting urgent.

Wow, what food. Loads of it, nicely presented and with extras, always a good sign. It made up for the late delivery but as it was icy and snowy I certainly wasn't about to complain. I opened with seek kebab, it was manna from heaven, came with a really different dressing and a tub of green salad. WH had opted for Onion bhaji, a predictably mild choice (as expected really) but pronounced them gorgeous. For his main he had Tandoori chicken, a huge chicken half with a massive side salad and sauce and a stuffed kheema nan which was light, fluffy and full of spicy lamb. I didn't want a whole main course so had opted for another starter, one I had never heard of before, Chicken Crocodile Tears which according to the menu is apparently a Bangladeshi speciality, cubed, marinated and grilled chicken with roasted veggies in a pineapple sauce. To say it blew me away was the understatement of the century. It was divine. Maybe my taste buds had burst back into life at that precise moment, I don't know but whatever, it was the best Indian meal I've ever eaten. The 'free' popadoms with chutney were great too, the wine will have to wait until I'm off the meds.

One thing is for sure, my new year's resolution is to order Crocodile Tears from that place again (and again and again)!

A whole month since I last posted here. No I haven't left you but it has been so hectic here I haven't had chance to write. and now I do it's yet another tale of woe.

My Mother in Law who is 89 has had to move into full time care this week after 9 months of in/out/in again hospital care and a continuing saga of 'events' which have had to be dealt with by family, district nurse, doctors or whoever depending on their nature. Finally the GP has said she is not safe at home mostly due to her refusal to accept appropriate help. The strain on the family has been immense and when she has been home it has been a near full-time job for 3 people. Luckily my input was mostly on the catering front so a little easier to cope with although it has felt odd this week not to be getting up at 7.30 and cooking. Three mornings a week since March I have cooked dinners, 2 on each of 2 days and 3 on a Friday. Full meals with hot puddings and custard which could then be cling filmed, labelled, taken 3 miles and then re-heated by the lunchtime carer.

I got quite organised producing batches of puddings and stews and the like which I then froze, so I could provide a variety of different home made dishes. Now we need to eat our way through all the ones remaining in the freezer, an awkward task as they are such tiny portions and WH will need 3 tubs of stew to feel like he has eaten anything.

Meanwhile we will be having a very odd Christmas, visiting Mother in Law and spending most of the day just the two of us, just youngest stepdaughter popping in for tea and to collect her presents. The main family are coming here on Boxing Day. Just as well it will be quiet really, I have a really bad dose of Bronchitis, picked up on one of the numerous hospital visits. Immuno-compromised by the methotrexate I left it a bit late to go and get antibiotics from the GP so now I am really suffering. At least cooking for 2 will be a doddle but we can always have a hot pudding from the freezer if it all become too much!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Sitting in the village surgery waiting room (just for a change) there was a long delay and the room was almost full. Three elderly ladies were putting the world to rights and debated the perils of autumn leaves in the garden, the old man down the road and the problems of getting a decent winter vest, over the course of fifteen minutes or so. They were then joined by another lady who told them that the postal-strike talks over the previous two days had now apparently broken down. "What?" said the hithertoo quietest of the other three, "God knows what they find to talk about," she said, "two whole days and they talk about absolutely nothing." Three single words came into my mind, pot, kettle and black.

Mother in Law was re-admitted to hospital after some stitches from her recent surgery started to bleed out. Naturally WH had gone in with her and had been away from here 8 hours or so dealing with it all. Half an hour after his return, the ward sister phoned to tell us of Mother in Law's admission as Mother in Law thought we might not know.

I found a lovely quote in a book I was reading by Santa Montefiore. Being questioned about his background, a chap who wanted to be evasive gave the following answer "My parents are in the iron and steel business, Mother irons and Father steals." I love it, just wish I had an opportunity to use it.

On a black, rainy, dismal day last week, the engineer arrived to set up our new stereo system. He'd come from Bristol and his sat-nav had sent him up some tiny country lanes but eventually he had hit the main drag so to speak, down the valley and into our small village. He was full of it, the narrow lanes and high hedges and the view from the top of the hill, the little village spread out below and he couldn't stop enthusing about it. "All we need is some sun and it would look like paradise," On a good day, I almost agree.

WH has his right arm in plaster, the result of his fall from the porch roof several weeks ago. Last Monday the wires were removed from the break in his wrist and he goes back to be assessed a week tomorrow. He hopes he will be having the plaster removed but it is not a given, he has to have the break X-rayed first. His left foot is not in plaster although he has a broken bone. After a week in plaster it was stable, so after scans and X-rays whilst he was under anaesthetic having his wrist wired, the plaster was removed. This to make his life a little easier although had he not had the wrist injury the leg would be still in plaster. He is not supposed to weight bear more than 50% on that foot and crutches are out of the question due to the broken wrist so he hobbles along with a stick.

Being self employed WH applied for Incapacity Benefit, as his is right as a payer of National Insurance contributions. He has no other income right now. You can't pay yourself Statutory Sick Pay so that is what you do when you're Self Employed. The forms were complicated and he had to send medical certificates etc in his case issued by the hospital on the day of his original accident. After about 4 weeks he was notified he would get a minimal payment. This week however he has been summonsed to attend a medical assessment interview by the Department for Work and Pensions (or rather their big buddies Atos Healthcare). If he had any questions he could phone a number. He did. He phoned. He asked why he had to be assessed given his spectacular, plain to see injuries and the fact he had a medical certificate describing this which more than covered him. He still has a black eye 6 weeks after the event.

He was told he has to be checked to make sure he really has broken his wrist etc. This check will be carried out by a "health care professional", NOT a doctor then. A certificate issued by a doctor is not sufficient. If he doesn't attend the assessment his benefit will be stopped.

His anger rapidly turned to disbelief was he when he was told that that the BA has to make sure that he is not capable of any work. He told them he HAS work when he is fit again, after all he runs his own business and strangely has had more enquiries from customers in the last 6 weeks than he has had all year. He questioned what sort of work a person could do who was immobile and can't use their dominant hand. "Oh there may be something."

So the appointment was made. A letter confirming this arrived yesterday along with a leaflet basically designed to scare the crap out of anyone who was thinking of not turning up. Attached to the appointment was a 'route plan' giving detailed instructions of how to get to the centre, which is 27 miles away, via public transport. Now we live in a rural area. Buses are not very frequent so the gist of this was that in order to arrive at a 2.10pm appointment he needed to leave home at 9 minutes past ten, take a bus 15 miles in the wrong direction, wait half an hour then take another bus past where he had come from followed by another 7 buses with finally a walk of 16 minutes duration. The route proudly proclaimed "Number of changes = 7, Journey duration 2hrs 44 minutes". You would then have to wait over an hour for the appointment which was likely to take a "minimum of 75 minutes but allow 2 hours in total". No return route was sent as as it can't be done on the same day. There is no public transport. There was no suggestion as to what he should do in that case. The booklet supplied states that "You will not be asked to attend an examination centre which would require a journey of more than 90 minutes each way by public transport" No problem with doing that then in the case of someone with their leg in plaster.

Well obviously I will be driving him there. It takes about 40 minutes and we can park quite close by in a public car park.

My question is this. If someone is desperate for the benefit, and given the parlous state of the NHS there are undoubtedly genuine claimants out there, how are they supposed to manage all this when they are going in the first place because they are ill? More to the point why is the Department for Work and Pensions wasting money paying fees to Atos Healthcare to assess people who clearly are very incapacitated but who fully intend to return to their regular job or business when they have recovered? A case of jobs for the boys I think and bugger the poor old public yet again.

Atos Healthcare? All they care about is their bank balance.