The Things That I Can Think of That I Know

That the Local Government Ombudsman brokered a Local Settlement ... which Dorset County Council have yet to fulfil.

That it was agreed that I should have a Facilitator/Advocate to assist me to achieve disabled facilities and adaptations. Sorted. Beginning to work well.

That the Police Community Support Team are effective and do support single disabled females who are threatened (allegedly) by their neighbours (because I achieved a Tree Protection Order on their tree in their field) and who are frightened by their neighbours (allegedly) taunting them (me) with an air rifle, pointed at me sat in my wheelchair in my garden. In this idylic (allegedly)quiet little Dorset village.

That a couple of police in full body armour and armed with handcuffs and truncheons, knocking on the neighbour's door unannounced, and telling them in no uncertain terms, that threats and intimidation to anyone, including single disabled females, is likely to lead to police action -is effective. No matter their protests that they did not do anything.

That I then thought "to hell with this, I don't have to put up with it" ... and put my house up for sale.

That I then secretly thought: Thanks to those neighbours from hell, I have police evidence and social services support for a necessary house move. Secret no more now is it !

That I could not afford from my sale to buy a bungalow more suited to disabled facilities and adaptations, in a safe quiet community, closer to friends and family.

That the Housing Corporation extended the scheme for Open Market Homebuy shared ownership to physically disabled people through specialist housing assocations, and that those of us too ill to work and dependent on means tested benefits, get the rent and service charge to the housing association, paid through benefit entitlement.

That that is how it ought to be in a civilised society.

That social services staff have a job to do in assessing the needs of peoples' disabilities, and they fill their days doing that. And their weeks. And their months. And their years. That is what they are employed to do. That it takes weeks, months, years, to achieve assessments, and to achieve the disabled facilities and adaptations the service user is needing, does not seem to be relevant to their career.

That I have been waiting since 26 September 2008 for my (new, senior, Team Leading) Occupational Therapist to discuss with me the draft assessment she produced and I sent back with necessary amendments.

That I have sold my home of eighteen years, subject to contract. That I don't mind now, really.

That I have bought the bungalow of my dreams, subject to contract. (oh god, the wall paper; oh god, the carpets; oh god, the kitchen, oh for fx sake a lavender bathroom, oh nevermind...)

That the District Council Environmental Services department are very good at their jobs, and have (there goes my Lupus brain again, loosing words, cogdysfunk'd again).... referenced ? No., sentenced ? No., ..... sent....referred... Yes that's it .... Referred me to the project managers, who will carry out the technical survey of my dream bungalow, next week, towards work on disabled facilities and adaptations. Yes, next week. Because they are more efficient than social services.

That I can bypass (allegedly) the County Hall Major Adaptations Panel (who ((allegedly)) messed it all up in the first place which resulted in my decision to request the Local Government Ombudsman investigate the delays) (too many paranthesis/ees)...) because under the rules for shared ownership housing I can have a specialist mortgage (interest paid through Income Support) to pay for the stuff necessary to my disabilities that the District Council's Disabled Facilities Grant (up to £25,000) cannot fund, so stuff the Major Adaptations Panel and their illegal (allegedly) decision not to fund necessary adaptations.

That under new DFG (keep up) legislation, wheelchair access now has to be provided not just indoors (and into the indoors) but in the garden as well.... and not just wheelchair access to the garden, but to the appurtenances of the garden.

That an appurtenance is not just the rotary laundry dryer, or the shed, or the wastebins or water butt ... but also an appurtenance is the enjoyment of the garden, access to the apple tree ... the veg plot .... yeah, right, I will believe that when it happens.

That this fabulous user-friendly, diversity-supporting, housing association, let their shared ownership tenants keep a pet, or a live-in lover ! Sorry ... that tenants can choose who they live with ... a dog, a chicken or a sex-slave. Soorry, this is getting worse !!!. Get a grip.

That life does get better. Slowly.

That my Bump (keep up - she's now 30!) is happy.

That it is ten years since my health, and my life, began to get worse.

That it is eight years since I first asked social services for wheelchair access into my home.

That it might just happen.

Allegedly.

That I miss blogging, but can't do it as I once did.

Until I get disabled facilities and adaptations.