Blogging Against Disablism Day 1st May 2009

Today is

BLOGGING AGAINST DISABLISM DAY

1st MAY 2009

COURTESY OF THE WONDERFUL 'GOLDFISH'

AT

http://www.blobolobolob.blogspot.com/2009/05/blogging-against-disablism-day-2009.html

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.

Disablism Killed the Muse !

The Goldfish's Blogging Against Disablism Day 2008

has arrived.

CLICK HERE

TO GO STRAIGHT TO GOLDFISH'S page for links to

104 POSTS so far and counting ....

I began blogging way back when, when I needed an outlet for the creative thoughts that were swarming around in my head. That is how I began, tentatively, to give voice to the Muse. Then unexpectedly it changed; Charles Dawson, Blogging Mone, Spotted Elle and Goldfish arrived: WOW I didn't expect that - a response, and over the months others visited and are famously blogging along here and at the BBC's OUCH. It became, happily and entertainingly a crip-blogging world. More recent blogging friends comment and keep in touch and are linked over to the right. (If I stop to put in links, as I should and could but can't get my cogdysfunk'd head round just now, I would loose this thread of thought.)

So my blog became, unexpectedly, a daily source of support from other crip bloggers. I heartily recommend it. Without blogging friends I would have reached deeper despair long before I was able to see that the only way to get the help I needed to fight this dis-ablist society, to get disabled (sic) facilities and adaptations to my home, requested of the powers that be in 2003, agreed with them in 2005, not yet begun; was to contact the Local Government Ombudsman and let that investigation sort out Social Services.

I do not need to recap the handicapping capped budgets at County Hall here today. But I do need to record that without the support of blogging and blogging friends and contacts from all parts of the blogging world, I would not have felt it was right to fight the Good Fight.

I am not alone in fighting the Good Fight - the Seahorse (linked in the panel on the right) is treading a different route to a similar goal - and you may be too, or may be thinking it might come to that, or even you may be thinking that you are not entitled to help. How would you know ? If you do know and you are fighting, then blog it, or get in touch here by a comment, so that it can be recorded that there are others who are struggling, who have to use their limited energies in fighting the Good Fight.

All this fighting, researching, letter writing, having meetings; all take energy, that people with disabilities, chronic ill-health, impairments sensory or physical, or learning or mental health issues - just don't have to spare from the needs of their daily living. So something has to give. I have not given up blogging, but I cannot do it daily, weekly or even monthly sometimes. Until I get the facilities and adaptations in my home so that I am no longer dis-abled by the built environment and lack of equipment.

So, my argument is here, that dis-ablism killed my Muse ~ that soul-residing complement to my outer persona, that feminine aspect of the psyche that needs expression, for me, in writing creatively. I don't have the spare energy anymore. The pain from the laptop on the lap (no wheelchair accessible desk) comes quicker, stays longer, stays stronger. And all my writing energy and creativity is being used in keeping the Local Government Ombudsman's investigation at the forefront of my fight for my rights. And the rights of other service users of this County's social services department.

EDUCATION ~ EDUCATION ~ EDUCATION

How do you, as a person with an impairment, know what help is available to you, what society says you are entitled to in terms of help, equipment, services, an income, a life ?

If you are not living the life you know you could live, not getting the assistance (in all its forms) that you feel you should be getting, how do you feel ?

Negated ? Selfish ? Frustrated ? Fearful ? Depressed ? Embarrassed ? Resigned ? Forlorn ? Don't see the point in fighting, don't have the energy, the brain space to fight, can't fight for it, too ill, too impaired. Just exist, keep on keeping on, unable to resist the slow slide into worse the next day than it was the day before.

Where do you get the information ? who is going to educate, advocate, support, assist you - to reach that reachable goal - independence - so you are no longer dis-abled by society.

Through the snail-mail each month I receive Disability Now magazine, originating from the Scope organisation - "about cerebral palsy - for disabled people achieving equality." In this month's issue, is a printed insert, a quiz in which Scope invite readers - all readers not just the people they represent - to Take our Quiz to find out - "Are you in control of your life?". As I most definitely am NOT I thought YOU might NOT be either, so - if you want to complete the quiz online, go to http://www.scope.org.uk/disablism/audit where your input will enable their campaign. The statistics they gather from people who take the quiz they will use to: " tell politicians and policy makers what it is really like to be a disabled (sic ) (sic !) person."

Disablism is rife in the lack of education for dis-abled people about their rights, specific to their own central government's legislation and controlled by their own social health and care providers through local government. Repeat the mantra: It is not your impairment that disables you, but a dis-ablist society that does not take account of your impairment and provide you with the equipment or built environment to enable you to overcome the limits of your individual impairment. In other words - its not you its them !

How often do we think to ourselves - I can't do that / have that / be that - because I am disabled. How often can we rise above those negative thoughts to thinking - I am quite capable of doing that / having that / being that - if only I had the financial means / equipment / opportunity. Education is all. Those with the power may not have told you you can - do that / have that / be that - because it would spend their precious budget they assume they have control over. Education is often not provided to service users (us) by the social health and care providers (them) because they would loose control if we knew what they should be doing to assist us live the lives we should be living. Which leads me to my next rant ...

ADVOCACY ~ ADVOCACY ~ ADVOCACY

By this I mean proper professional trained independent funded Advocacy - not volunteers, not necessarily people who themselves have impairments - Advocacy that has the clout (think big wet cloth not fighting fists!) and that can force County Hall budget deciders and social services departments, to automatically provide to dis-abled people what central government has legislated should be provided so that people are no longer dis-abled in their impaired lives.

Disability Law Services, with advice, support and advocacy services, are available in some areas of the UK. Usually in cities, where there is a geographically concentrated client base, that makes the funding and setting up of such a service, with lawyers, advisers, advocates, with accessible buildings for their offices, awareness-raising publicity and advertising, all economically viable.

I dream of a Disability Law Service in all areas, that can deal robustly with legal issues, interpret legislation, and support, educate and advise dis-abled people and advocate for them. A service that has independence, that employs the independent trained professional people, that has the powers to ensure that providers of social care services comply with the law, with central government's guidance and legislation, on providing for the needs of dis-abled people, for their health, well being and social inclusion. Powerful stuff.

When I have the energy, when I have the disabled facilities and adaptations, when I have the time, when I am no longer fighting my own personal Good Fight, then the next fight, will be ensuring that Advocacy is available.

Did they think I would quietly go away happy once the Local Government Ombudsman has completed his investigation. They really don't have a clue. Unless they read it here first !

The Muse is not dead, merely resting, biding her time, and donating her services to the Good Fight.

Goldfish has begun the BADD 08

For the third year, Blogging Against Disablism Day will be on 1st May 2008.

Created, nurtured and hosted by Goldfish.

Click the link title above.

See you there !

Revolution: nearly, soon, truly, yes; I think so.

http://eleganthack.com/

Being selfish today, in that I have spent precious capability to withstand laptop on lap and attendant pain- and fatigue- inducing activity, on reading a blogging poet FSJL. Often when reading FSJL on his Stanmore Hill blog page, I have found, pulled out from my unconscious, something felt but un-described until found in his poetry. A remarkable poet; daily his thoughts pour into perfectly formed poems.

In these short winter days when grey clouds add to the gloom as early as 3 pm, and the Christmas tree is blocking my access to the filing cabinet, printer and the 'to do' tray, I can prolong the holiday and continue to feed the senses. Food, drink, friends, old films; all are now a surfeit. So this today is Alone Time; now my Bump is back in her own neck of the woods, and I turn to music and poetry and prose. However, my brain nudged me to say that the next thing ought to be making sense of the events of the last few months. I have been, am still, afraid of the situation with Dorset County Council social services department. That fear used up my brain capacity, used up physical energy, depleted me.

Over the holiday when I have put aside everything labelled 'work', unbeknown to me, my brain has been working away at understanding my situation; working away much as the hard drive on the laptop does after an upgrade. Leave it with nothing to do for a while, and it sorts stuff, unbeknown, unbidden; just does it. When I next turn it on; the laptop and the brain, its slightly different, and working better. So, when I chose to feed the senses by reading some poetry, in a roundabout way, my reading of FSJL has made sense of my scary connection with Dorset County Council's social services department and my request to the Local Government Ombudsman to investigate what I believe is their maladministration of my need for equipment and adaptations for my physical and cognitive impairments.

Click LINK to Local Government Ombudsman.

In the bigger picture, beyond my own situation, I think I am connected to a revolution, of sorts, which I did not begin but am a part of, and thus may be picking up (through my scapegoat complex) negativity from those at Dorset County Council being jostled by the changes. FSJL, I read from his CV has a personal connection to a political revolution in the Caribbean. Reading his http://malvernmountain.blogspot.com/ blogpage 'Machievellian Moments ...' (June 8, 2007) led me to thinking:

There are parallels and instruction, here, on the British labour government's (itself founded, if not now a little floundering, on socialism) ideal and aim of self-governing and care-providing for 'disabled' people with FSJL's papers on the fight for independence by people previously governed colonially. Here and now in Dorset, the local tier of government in its social services department staff, are being forced to withdraw, through decreased central government funding, from their hands-on control of 'disabled' peoples' quality of life. Social Services department staff are being forced, by decreasing central government funding, and directives from central government, to hand 'their' budgets over to disabled people, to service users, in order that those (us) service users themselves may buy the services needed to live our own daily lives and enable our own social inclusion. (one of my clunkier sentences).

This revolution is very subtle and many service users may not yet have been touched by it, or not recognise it for what it is. Older, time served, service users are more likely to notice the revolution than younger or recent service users who may see it, correctly, in the light of what they would expect in this day and age.

(NB: if you do not think of yourself as a Service User; think again. Is it because you don't think you qualify for services; or social services department have told you you don't qualify for services? Think again, and get advocacy to challenge it. If you are not managing your day to day life (year to year ?!) or are isolated or excluded, or unhappy with the circumstances of your dis-abled life in any way, you are entitled to funding to get the equipment, services, and aids to social inclusion that you do need, Yes You Do. There is more to service provision that unpaid family and friends !)


Hints of the coming revolution are to be found in the Assessment of Need carried out by social services. Yes, 'carried out' by social services. Still the direction from central government seems to be worded to suggest that local government social services departments still have the power. But be encouraged: social services departments have to consult and discuss with the service user as an equal stakeholder on this Assessment. Stake your claim to this all you Holders of Stakes out there. The Assessment of Need is now NOT determined by social services staff, but as a temporary stage in this revolution, the subject, sorry, the service user has an equal say in the determination of the need. Finally, service users of social services will themselves wholly and independently with advocacy as needed, state their own assessment of their own needs. We will, in this revolution, I hope have as much clout and power in our voices and votes, as others in our communities have in the local politics of education provision, roads and highways, waste collection, police and ambulance and other essential services.

Stay with me here please; I am not a scholar and what threads and similarities are seen here by me, between FSJL's political analysis and my experience of changes in Dorset County Council's social services department, and social care throughout the country; may not be apparent in this blogged comparison.

But I am attempting to explain that I am encouraged that what seems a potential for entire revolution in social care provision, has its parallels in other fights for independence and self-governance in other spheres.

One of FSJL's points is that colonial rule led to education which enabled the populace to gain knowledge to understand their situation and fight, in words and action, to end the colonial governing of their lives and therefore to determine their own future and way of life. (Deep apologies to FSJL if this explanation detracts from his sophisticated writing on his subject.)

What we 'dis-abled' people lack is knowledge; of our rights, of legislation that provides for our rights. How often have established bloggers in the world of crip bloggers, come across a new crip blogger who is starting out on the same road that we have travelled (perhaps in a different time zone) and that new crip blogger is struggling with the same issues, blocks to services, outmoded and disgraceful attitudes from service providers. We welcome them, encourage and hold them in our hearts and minds; we tell them of our experiences, ways we found to get the essential services we needed; what words to write on the mountains of forms applying for basic funds and equipment.

All people ... who become dis-abled from social inclusion by whatever eventuality and currently find themselves dependent on a system left over from a paternalistic, charity-minded, workhouse ethic orientated, bureaucracy ... need education. This system may be changing.

But directives from UK central government to local government social services departments is not enough. Education of services users is needed. Crip Education. So that we know what they should be doing. So that we know when they are doing it wrong. So that we know how to deal with them when they get it wrong wrong wrong, without making ourselves ill, physically or psychologically, in the process. Knowledge is power.

But not every person who is or becomes dis-abled has the capacity; of time, health, energy, or confidence, to gain and use such knowledge. Then there is a place for a caring society to support them. Which is not the same as looking after them paternalisitically with charity and 'we know best' service provision.

So, quietly, without newspaper headlines, and even without very much discernible difference yet in our quality of life, there is change. The Revolution has begun.

Blogging is an essential cog in the wheel of this Revolution. Has it begun yet in the social services department of your area's tier of local government ? You are a stakeholder in this revolution.

~~~

Update: Just before the Christmas holiday, the Local Government Ombudsman Investigator emailed me with an apology for the lengthy time it is taking for him to investigate my claim of maladministration by Dorset County Council social services department. I am content that his comments show my claim is being investigated thoroughly and that the LGO investigation is doing what I could not do alone.

~~~

POSTSCRIPT: DCC has visited my blog - see 'Comments' below.

Call to Arms

http://www.ngw.nl/

Who's Afear'd ~ not Me !

This is the coat of arms of Dorset County Council, granted to them in 1950 by the College of Arms. They got the motto from the Society of Dorset Men (not exclusive to men), to whom it was suggested by Thomas Hardy in 1905.

I am not afraid of the Dragons at the County Council. Maybe its the ongoing investigation by the Local Government Ombudsman that currently enables me to feel this; maybe it is a growing confidence that they (the corporate body) are, in my experience, blinkered public servants who are incapable of seeing beyond the edge of their (corporate) desks into the Kafka-esque abyss they are creating for the users of social services.

Certainly I know that the latest systemic steroid injection fires my brain up, clears the cognitive brain fog, boosts up the stamina and even cools down the heavy molten lead carried around my whole body, just under the surface, by the systemic erythematosus that is the inflammation of Lupus. (Be warned, a systemic steroid injection doesn't suit everybody and does not help every condition of fatigue and brain fog; certainly not CFS/ME in people I know of.)

I feel like sending a rocket up the County Council's (corporate) arse. My paternal great grandfather could have been of practical help in this, for as lifeboat coxswain, he may have had a few to spare after this ...

The nitty-gritty of the new situation I now find myself battling with Social Services, is dull to all except those directly affected, but I put it here in case there are, out there in the blogosphere, any other service users of Direct Payments.

So this is a Call to Arms to other disabled people who are users of their Local Authorities' social services department's Direct Payments scheme. Disabled people who employ their own staff for the home care and day care they are assessed by social services as needing for their health, safety and wellbeing (to use the correct wording), including assistance to attend medical appointments or in other health care settings .

We should get together, virtually, and compare experiences of problems, and their resolutions (not revolutions, yet !), and perhaps have a rocket practice so that, all over the country, local authorities get the proverbial rocket up their (corporate) arses.

http://www.jubileefireworks.co.uk/

The County Council are short of money for their social services budget. To (allegedly) disguise just how enormous are the budget cuts for social services, they have (allegedly) combined budgets from social services departments, libraries, adult education, community safety (sic) and health improvement (very sick), and re-named the whole damned conglomeration ' Adult Services', which now has a whacking great budget, made up of all those previously separate budgets, each having its individual budget cuts thereby disguised.

Then they (the corporate they) (allegedly) decided to grab as much of the National Health Service budget as they could get their hands on, thanks to central government encouragement to the NHS Primary Care Trusts and Local Authorities with Social Care Responsibilities to work together to deliver services.

Remember that central government has poured lots of money into health care (as it affects voters of all ages and incomes) and not very much into social care, as the not-yet-disabled voters don't think it will happen to them, so its not a vote-loosing strategy. Cynical, moi ?

So, what is new, is that now my social worker informs me that, without notice, without my consent, without consultation, without any thought to the affect of their policy change on service users, AND without adhering to Fair Access to Care criteria, Dorset social services policy is now that the service user; I, will have to get the money to pay my PA to assist me at hospital appointments, not from Dorset County Council Adult Services with whom I have entered into a contract for Direct Payments to purchase the care I need; but from the hospital I go to.

Bizarre. Not on. No way. Have they not heard of the law of contract ?!

Obviously not, so I have told them. That the County Council cannot change the terms of my contract with them without my consent, without notice, without consultation with service users, without thought that the contracts of employment that I have entered into with my employees, is founded on the Contract for Direct Payments with Dorset County Council, which guarantees the regular amounts into my DP bank account from which their salaries are paid. So that I am not liable for the money to pay my employees from my benefit income - nor from my occupational pension from Dorset County Council !

And all sorts of other contractual reasons why not, which took four typed pages to explain it to them. All the reasons the council lawyers, service managers, team leaders, social workers and jobs-worths do not appear to have considered. Telling them what they should consider. Telling them how to do their job of supporting me as a service user, to met their duty of care for my health, safety and well being.

Posted yesterdday. I feel as though I have done their job for them. Without pay.

I could be wrong. How am I to know for sure, without professional legal advice on the law of contract and employment law ? Access to which professional advice on Direct Payments should be provided to service users by the County Council. Well, I don't consider the one-man DP advisory service that I refused to use any more over three years ago, meets that remit. I refuse to have that smelly (allegedly), (in my experience), bully (in my experience), (allegedly) in my house. Yeah, that's another axe to grind another day.

All I can do is shout loudly over four typed pages how this change in Direct Payments policy will impact negatively on this service user. And refuse to accept it.

They can earn their salary now and sort it out. This has been churning away in my mind and guts for almost two weeks now, and my laptop has taken a helluva battering. Now my laptop and I need some space and peace and quiet.

Always the Jungian, this image returns to me time after time. The dragon I hold on the chain is being defeated by my positive animus; my knight in shining armour, representative of a woman's ability to deal with the world. The lady in this painting is not Afear'd.

Paulo Uccelo ~ St George and the Dragon c 1456

Even so, I need to calm down my indignant racing heart so I don't need to take any more beta-blockers to deal with the physical effects. This would be a good way to calm down ...

Odilon Redon - The Mystic Boat

COMMENTS ARE WELCOME ON MY BLOG - please click on 'comments' below to read what others have said, and leave your own comments. I have elected to moderate comments, so your comment will not appear immediately. That is how I delete the comments that are offers from companies all over the globe to recruit PAs for me.

When is a Taliban Not a Taliban ?!

WHEN IT IS .... " the disability taliban ..."

Its Monday, a brain-befuddled drug down day. Not a day to go putting my nose out the door, over the parapet, into other peoples' business, or even to deal with my own affairs.

So, you would think a quiet meander through the emails would be safe. Photos from a friend; 'how are you' from others; some comments via blogger that I haven't so far been able to respond to, and the weekly update on local government matters from http://www.info4local.gov.uk/ (which is where I get all my inside information) with a link to the Disability Rights Commission.

Gasped in astonishment when those words ~ "the disability taliban" ~ hit me in the eye. On the DRC's very own website.

(POSTSCRIPT: I can't give you the link to the relevant page on their web site for you to click on, as it is so long it messes up the template, so go to 3 w's and a dot followed by drc-gb.org/library/research followed by a forward slash, then: journal_articles/journal_articles_august_2007.aspx)

Now I know that strictly translated the term 'taliban' means 'students of Islam', but the connotations gleaned from media coverage are a different story. And I know that the writer of the article in 'Modern Railways' who used such an inflammatory description (of those people with physical impairments who are impatient at having to wait until 2020 to get their wheelchair on a train), is probably an ignorant sexist racist misogynist disablist (allegedly) nerd, but even so, the DRC should know better.

So, I rang them. To check that what I had seen really did exist on their web site. That I wasn't over-reacting. That it was not the thing to do, really, was it, to put up that quote on their own website. Inflammatory, offensive, discriminatory, disablist.

Yup, it was a surprise to the lady on their helpline. Could I make a formal comment via their website complaints form please, so that they can investigate it.

Oh, all right then, here goes:

The DRC website page 'Journal Articles August 2007'. Under the DRC's heading 'Transport' the DRC web page refers to an article published by 'Modern Railways' august 2007 pp20-24 entitled 'New Train Tsunami Looms' and quotes on line four "... the disability taliban...".

I am offended by the connotation of taliban with the disability movement.

I 'googled' the term 'taliban' and was offered: " ... a fundamentalist militia" from wordnet.princeton, and"... made up of ardent obscurantists" (opposers of reform and enlightenment) from a Guardian newspaper article.

These descriptions largely support my, and I suspect other peoples', understanding of the term 'taliban' from media coverage. I am disabled and I try to counter disablism wherever I find it. I have two questions:

1. Do the DRC react to publications that use offensive language in describing the disability community. If this term had been used in any other media; such as during a televised discussion or news report, would it have been deemed offensive and discriminatory ?

2. Did the DRC not consider that it would be offensive to put that quotation from another source on their own website, thereby repeating and compounding the offence and seeming to leave it unchallenged as an acceptable usage of the term as a description of a particular interest group of people with impairments.

The use of the term 'taliban' as an adjective should be actively challenged by the DRC, not repeated on its own website.

Submit ? Click !

I then drew the covers back over my head and tried to go back to sleep.

I like a picture to lighten the gloom of this page, so to illustrate this I trawled the web for relevant pictures, but all that Google came up with was this:

dk4dcy.net

I mean no offence to Islam, or students of Islam. Just sexist misogynists.

Asperger's, Anonymity and other ripples on the pond

Addendum 16.5.07 - see Postscript for experiences over on the other side of the pond.

I have a close relative, aged late 20s, with Asperger's. A was always the brightest kid on the block. Some years ago on work experience, before there was a diagnosis, A wiped the computers of the company providing the work experience, beyond and below the computers' factory settings. A was a bit of a genius, still is, with computers, but in those days was still experimenting.

Some years on, A has found an appropriate niche and is safe, as safe as any of us can be in this world, and enjoying life so far as a disablist society will allow. That means A has sheltered employment, sheltered accommodation and an accompanied social life.

A is still taken advantage of, usually without realising it until later, or when it is explained, then A is embarrassed and quiet and very hurt and retreats a little bit more. The retreats have always limited A a bit more, for A is naturally an outgoing social kind of person.

In written communication A is enthusiastic, optimistic, wants to share achievements wanting praise like the rest of us, expects the world to react in the open honest straightforward way A approaches the world. Except to close family, A never refers to the Asperger's condition; it is that part that A feels is very hidden and that is how the unaware world deals with A.

So - often A is used; by carers, by older, wiser, craftier, contacts. A can be manipulated without knowing it and has been used as part of a game plan by others, then is left to carry the brunt of reactions to the little game. A protests it was not so and is bewildered. Close friends and family have to wait until A's strong emotions have subsided a little so that A is open to having the scenario explained so that A can appreciate how it happened, to build a bit more onto the protective shield, from that experience.

A thinks, hopes, the humiliations of teenage years, the pre-diagnosis years, are in the past. A now has a public profile in the voluntary role A carries out and is well known in that circle, community and geographical area. A is more protected by the fact of having a public image, and gregariousness that suits that voluntary role.

We still have to look out for A, just in case A unwittingly, or encouraged by others; drops a pebble in the pond and is suprised by the ripples that come crashing back to the shore.

POSTSCRIPT:
Andrea has written an informative and worrying piece on this condition in American society, and commentators affected have given their experiences. Read it by clicking on THIS

Just for the Record - my first 1st May BADD post

Having joyfully found my lost original 1st May contribution to BADD from the www, via my site meter, I am re-posting it here, and thank everyone for their comments, which are still attached to my truncated 1st May post.





I used the Goldfish's categories for inspiration:

Abortion and Euthanasia

I am old enough to have been spared abortion. If I had been an impaired foetus, technology had not progressed to looking at a foetus in the womb and so society, then, had not progressed to deciding on its economic viability.

I will be old, sooner or later, depending on my degree of impairment. I hope that society has not progressed, by that time, to economic euthanasia.

Access Issues (outside employment)

Nine years ago I was given a NHS manual attendant wheelchair (I cannot self propel) but the NHS did not provide an attendant to push me. I stayed at home, waiting for volunteers. Six years ago I requested, but was refused, a NHS electric wheelchair. Five years ago I had begged enough charity to buy one.

Then I asked the District Council and the County Council social services for wheelchair access into my home. Four years ago I asked for wheelchair access inside and around my home and the NHS assessed me as eligible for an electric wheelchair but, as I had an outdoor electric wheelchair, with their funding I had to promise to only use their funded wheelchair indoors. They would fund 20% of the cost. Two years ago (after I had waited two years) the County Council social services assessed me as eligible for wheelchair access into the house and into principal downstairs rooms.

Last week I asked the Local Government Ombudsman to look into why the County Council were still preventing me (and wheelchair using friends) from having wheelchair access into my home; preventing me bringing my outdoor wheelchair indoors for storage and charging; preventing me having the use of an indoor electric wheelchair; preventing wheelchair access to principal downstairs rooms; preventing assessed as eligible for provision of safe usable bathing, toileting and washing facilities, and not providing wheelchair access to disability related equipment for communication.

Three years ago I asked the Village Hall Committee to comply with the Disability Discrimination Act and provide wheelchair accessible toilet facilities behind the toilet door that had the wheelchair symbol on it. And asked for one of the two fire escape doors to have a ramp down the two steep steps. Two years ago the Parish Plan recommended the wheelchair accessible toilet and fire escape. Last year the Parish Council recommended the same to the Village Hall Committee. Nothing has happened. This year I am too tired to go to the Annual Parish Meeting and witness by my presence that they have done nothing.

Art Against Disablism

Last year I didn't join the local art class under the adult education provision, with a favourite artist teacher who I had known years ago, even though it was held in wheelchair accessible premises with toilet facilities and parking; because I needed practical assistance, reliable, guaranteed each week, and no volunteer service could guarantee that, and social services budget for social inclusion would not stretch from paying my PA for one session, to two sessions, of 'social inclusion' a week.

Definition and analysis of Disablism

It is illegal - Disablism - just like Sexism and Racism, but like those isms, it happens. Nothing more erudite than that I am afraid, here.

Disablism within Healthcare Systems

I had a bump on my forehead, a benign osteoma. Over twenty years it grew to being Big. Painful. Unsightly. Benign none the less. The Medics did not want to operate to remove it because I am a wheelchair user and that would be difficult for them on the in-patient ward. Yes, they said so, to my GP. The next reason the Medics gave for not wanting to operate on my benign osteoma was because I have Lupus. My GP had to be persuaded by me, and then be persuaded by me to tell the Medics, that I was well enough to not have Lupus related complications during or after the surgery, but I might not be in a few years time when the osteoma had grown through my skull into my brain. Best to do it now, don't you think ?

Education

One of the written-down reasons, taken from the officially approved list, that my Occupational Therapist gave the budget-deciders at County Hall, to persuade them to fund my assessed as eligible disabled facilities and adaptations, was that I would then be able to pursue further education and academic study.

No, I said to my OT, I have no intention of pursuing a recognised course of academic study. Been there, done it, got the certificate. Thank you but No Thank You, I am too old to jump through that particular hoop again. And, besides, its a Lie. The perfectly adequate and true reason is that I need access to disability related equipment for communication so that I can manage my life independently in my physical and cognitive disabilities. That is sufficient. There is no need to lie that I need it for an education.

Nonetheless, I would like to further my artistic education. But that is a different social services budget.

Employment

I have not been an employee since I took my Town Council employers to the Employment Tribunal in a case for constructive dismissal, disability discrimination and sexual harassment (not all by the same person !).

Example: Newly arrived new Boss: "You are very awkward, aren't you Sally."
"No, I am not awkward, I am disabled; I have Meniere's Syndrome, and that is very awkward for you."

Experiences through Family and Friends

Scene: I have explained to my Mother, on the phone, why I cannot do what she wants me to do.
Mother to Sally: "You are very selfish Sally."
Sally: "No Mother, I am not selfish, but I am ill and I am disabled."
Mother: "Well, what's wrong with you ?"
Sally: "There is nothing wrong with me; as I have explained, I have a disease, Lupus, Systemic Lupus Erythematosus."
Mother: "You can't expect me to remember all that."
Sally: "I will write it down for you, then you will have no excuse to forget."

Later, I send her an information card from the Lupus Association.

Mother: "What did you do to deserve that then, IF it IS as bad as you say it is ?"
(Was that a double or a triple insult in one sentence?)
Sally: "Nothing." Puts phone down.

Weeks later, she has softened a bit:
Mother: "Well, where did you get it from ? You didn't get it from me and there was nothing wrong with your Dad."
Sally: "Well, you are my parents, so it must have been the combination of your genes that has resulted in my genetic disposition to Lupus."
Mother: "Hmm." (in a huff)

(I swear this is verbatim)

General Thoughts on Disablism

It is something to focus energy on, to fight, to blog against, to feel we do have some chance of changing it by challenging it, here.

Impairment Specific Prejudice

"You DO look well."
"But, you look well."
"Aren't you looking well."
"You're looking so well."
"You must be feeling much better."
"You don't look ill."

People with Lupus look well. Fact. So well in fact, that in 2000 the Lupus Association published 'A GP Guide to Lupus' (115 pages) which was launched at Westminster and sent to every GP surgery in the country. This because so many Lupus patients (90% of whom are female) were not being diagnosed early enough to prevent permanent skin, joint, soft tissue or major organ damage. Because they look well, their doctors were not taking their reports of ill health seriously. From the book's introduction: "... such patients are frequently categorised as hypochondriacs."

The result for me: a wheelchair, because for four years my male GP had not taken me or my symptoms seriously, stating: " ... you have a neurotic need to be ill."

Being in a wheelchair brings its own specific prejudice:

I am bowling along in the shopping centre, dressed smartly as I usually am when I go out into what passes for civilisation. I have made the mistake of going out in public during the school and college holiday. Two teenage girls, attractive, well dressed, not Chavs, ever so slightly moved further away from the approaching me-in-a-wheelchair than is necessary. As I get closer they look down on me and, as one, they frown, crinkle their noses, shake their heads slightly and ... I can't get the words right, to describe what is unmistakably their intention to inform me: I am a smell, I am an affront to their youth, to their right to not be exposed to disease, I should not be out in public, and worse; I am female so I have an extra duty not to be seen in public; I have female parts that should not be seen in a cripple, not be associated with disease, it is an insult to attractive females and I have no right to associate in peoples' minds, disease with breasts and a womb. I am an abomination.

No, just Me, in a wheelchair. I was not harmed by their attitude, but I seethe still.

Love and Sex

Yes please. Oh, sorry, general Love - yes I get lots; from my Bump, and special friends, who know I love and appreciate them. And blogging friends, who I hope know that I love them, especially as by their dedication to reading my blog they know me as well as, probably better, than most of my friends. Sex. That would be nice.

None English Blogs

Mohebat once visited my blog leaving a one word comment of praise. At the time I followed the link (no longer functional) to Her/His blog, but I think Mohebat was Iranian, so without a translation facility, all I could relate to was this exquisite picture on the page, which expressed a lot of what today is about. S/he has not visited since.


Parenting

For me it is all about my Bump no longer needing parenting. That is the hardest part yet of being a parent of an independent adult with an impairment; who no longer thinks of herself as disabled and, therefore, nor must I.

Poetry Against Disablism

Written three years ago when brain fatigued and cognitively dysfuncked, not able to get the wheelchair indoors, physically exhausted, depressed.

Lupus loop: zombie shti, cognitive dysfunct.
No laptop, no ramped assent, no wheelchair,
No buggy round the bend to the u-bend,
No lift to the stars in the stair lift.
Sleek quiet soft seat outside in the jeep,
Inside, stumpy feet in sheep-skin standing,
leaning, trying.
No DFG, no TLC. No crying.

Quotes Against Disablism

One from every blog appearing on BADD would be good.

The Language of Disablism

We witness against it.

BAD BADD 2nd May

I AM INCONSOLABLE.

IN ATTEMPTING TO ADD AN UPDATE, I LOST THE ENTIRE BADD POST.

I DID NOT SAVE IT ELSEWHERE

I CANNOT FIND IT ANYWHERE.


May 2nd Update (see 19 - Quotes below)


Post Posting Editing Postscript:


The post for BADD was written during the neuro toxic drug down days. Today, now that the drug is clearing my system, I see that it is more negative than I feel today. So to celebrate BADD I now also celebrate the Good. Thereafter the BADD continues.

It is a glorious spring day and its May Day. I live in a lovely part of the world, and I can sit outside and enjoy it. I live in my own home and I live in a country where, eventually, the state will provide. I have a low, but guaranteed, income that is just sufficient. My expensive drug regime does not cost me anything. My mortgage was paid off by my medical insurance. The Motability scheme has sourced a government grant to enable me to have a wheelchair accessible vehicle. All this I have time to enjoy on good days, because I do not have to be in paid employment. I know it is not as easy for many people with impairments who live in this disablist world.

BADD CATEGORY: Personal Journey

Just pulling out a few threads from the tangle ... and hanging them on the Goldfish's categories.

AND THERE IT WAS: GONE.

Postscript: Now here it is: FOUND

Finally ... At Last ... After much Consideration ...

I have, Finally, At Last, After much Consideration,

made my Complaint

about Dorset Social Services

to the Local Government Ombudsman

in the form of

14 pages of text answering their standard questions

(and let my MP know)

(but not Social Services)

Now, put the kettle on, and most importantly

DON'T PANIC SALLY, DON'T PANIC

its o.k. really it is, to complain, and right and proper.

All is Not sweetness and light

My blog over recent posts has not reflected the whole of my life; why should it. No-one needs to know all the problems, and I need an outlet for the Sweetness and Light that is around my life. However, I now need t0 redress the balance; not for sympathy (although that is welcome!) but for the record.

I have had two falls in two days. The first wasn't too bad, in its effect on me although I was afraid for the laptop, but it should not have happened. Yesterday's fall was spectacular and frightened me. More than the bad fall last November, a few days before surgery, which caused me to hobble for two weeks. I fall because of my complex physical, cognitive and sensory disabilities. I fall because of physical fatigue and dizzyness. I fall because I do not have the use of an indoor wheelchair.

Today all my joints are jarred and I hurt in places that are not even bruised. I was on the floor for a longish time before I could crawl to a chair. I was in the chair a long time before I could move and sort myself out. The fear I felt was more than the pain. Once the shock had subsidised I felt angry. And anger is such a good thing when it is translated into action.

I have fallen because my request to social services for wheelchair access in the home made in April 2003 (yes, not a typographical error, it was 4 years ago) has not yet been met. This delay, as regular readers may recall, is despite involving my MP, despite the NHS wheelchair service assessing an indoor wheelchair as necessary over two years ago, despite agreeing an assessment of my eligible need with the County Council for loan funding, and the District Council for Disabled Facilities Grant. Despite the Fair Access to Care criteria imposed on local authorities with social care responsibilities by the government. Despite the government guidance to local authorities on Housing Adaptations for Disabled People.

Last November, a short while before the skull surgery, I had an enormous meeting in my home with three people from social services (my OT, my social worker, and a new bod, their boss), one (lovely supportive knowledgeable) man from the district council who decides disabled facilities funding, and two from the organisation that is now contracted to manage the schemes because social services are no longer capable.

Three months prior to that meeting I stated that everything had to be finalised and handed over to the organising organisation (!) before surgery, as I could not guarantee being able to deal with it afterwards. Such has proved the case. Cognitively I have been incapable of dealing with the complex situation. Shortly after the surgery I received a letter from the new bod at Social Services that was so full of such ginormous errors and misunderstandings that I could only weep with frustration. A month later I wrote and told the new bod he was wrong and causing me stress and acute anxiety. He replied he was right. I did not reply. Silence.

Until I fell yesterday. For months I have been afraid of contacting social services, or anyone else. But now the fear of falling has overtaken that fear. Today I have not taken the weekly low dose chemotherapy that controls Lupus, because it also renders me brain-incapable. Instead I have written (and posted) a 20 page letter to the new bod at Social Services explaining all that he should have read from the file of previous assessments and agreements, and copied it to everyone else and asked them to act. I have documented the falls and blamed social services and stated I can no longer deal with the stress and acute anxiety that the process of achieving disabled facilities is causing me. I have stated I cannot keep doing their job for them. I cannot keep on keeping on.

Next week I will consider contacting the Local Government Ombudsman, which I have been too afraid of doing so far. Now I am more afraid of falling. Again.

Normal service of blogging will be resumed as soon as possible.

With Friends like these

Eric Ravilious - Water Wheel

(picture unconnected to post title, just another set of wheels)

Imagine the Scene: town centre car park by the river, returning after a quick essential shop, by chance I had seen my lovely friend, the most attractive fanciable crip in a chair I have ever known, and the sun shone and the birds sang and I felt good.

Opened up the back of the van, let down the ramp, all the while sat in the wheelchair. Caught sight of a lady walking quickly, almost trotting, across the car park straight towards me in the corner I was parked in, waving, smiling, calling.

Oh hell, I thought, my brain is not in gear as I thought it was - or - have I got the wrong specs on; because I had not the faintest idea of who she was.

"Hello," she said, "that's very good for you isn't it, lets you be independent, do you do it yourself, do you, do you drive it yourself or does someone drive it for you ?"

No, I don't know who the f... she is, so what could I say, but: "Is that ANY of your business?" "Well, I was just saying how nice it is for you." "Yes, thank you."

I can be polite, in a chilling, dismissive, patronising sort of way.

I can spot them, after eight years of being targeted; the patronising nosey people who assume my day will be made better by them giving me a little of their time and view of my life.

I can also spot the really interested ones, who are diffident, polite, apologise in advance, before they ask me about my van and wheelchair configuration. Usually they are interested because they can foresee the day they might need such equipment or they know someone who does not have the information that I can pass on.

For such as those, I have all the time in the world and the goodwill to engage with them.

An Ode to my Occupational Therapist

I explain something to her, very carefully, factually
and she says: yes, I see;
but I think she just has an emotional reaction
and acts on that
and goes to her supervisor
with the situation,
from her emotional perspective,
forgetting, or not presenting, my facts.

And her superior says:
but what about ....
and ....
and ....

And instead of OT replying
to her superior
with the facts I have given her,
she comes back to me
with the questions and the reasons
why not,
from her superior.

And my cogdysfunck has taken me elsewhere
so I have to find my way back
to what I have said before.

And her tone has altered
so that she is saying to me:
No, because ...
and I have to remind her,
if I can,
of my reasonings,
but I cannot due to tiredness,
cogdysfunck, fear, despair.

So I am overwhelmed
and cannot remind her that
I had told her the facts
and I haven't got the strength to say:
why didn't you tell your superior
what I said,
now and in the past,
to support my request.

And I feel doubly let down, because
First: she has changed her attitude to me
from first positive, when I felt relief
that she had taken on board
what I had said; to
Second: negative, questioning why
I think my request
should be considered.

It was reasonable, reasoned,
when first requested.
It felt unreasonable in the light
of her superior's questions.

Days later it comes back to me.
All the reasons, all the legislative back up,
So I write another letter
and do her job for her.

Legal Sparrow cheeps in despair

Today I have received a letter from Social Care and Health, who have delayed my request for wheelchair access in the home for THREE years, advising that they have implemented Stage 1 of the Formal Complaints Process.

I have not made a Formal Complaint.

Instead I have asked my MP to investigate the matter on my behalf, because in my ill health and disabilities, the stress of a formal complaints procedure would exacerbate my two medical conditions, and risk a Lupus flare.

Two years ago a SC&H Team Leader acknowledged that there is no advocacy service in Dorset trained and experienced in Social Health and Care legislation, for adults of working age with a physical disability.

I do not think that the Service Manager at SC&H can implement a formal Complaints Procedure on my behalf without my consent.

I have replied that I do not give my consent.

I have replied that I trust that action taken without my consent, will not further delay my critical assessed eligible needs being met. Needs that were assessed as eligible by Social Care and Health in April 2005, fourteen months ago and two years after my initial request.

I have copied my reply to the Director of SC&H at County Hall, my MP, the District Council, my GP and my Rheumatologist.

And I have blogged it.

That is all I can do before my weekly neuro toxic drug kicks in.

It's My Party and I'll Rant If I Want To

While I'm on a ranting roll, I may as well continue, to help myself deal with the disablist world.

Rant No. 1

At a concert in a church last evening, I was almost dis-abled by a church warden, a nice plump lady, strawberry blonde with pink cheeks and nice jewellery (I'm easily impressed), whom I had telephoned previously to check the church was accessible. It was, with a nicely paved discrete ramp for all, replacing the steps the Victorians added to many churches, to make them higher, literally to halt the lame (who they presumed had done something to deserve that god-given fate), and to bring parishes up to a high church, along with incense and sung services.

I love incense and sung services; we have societies to promote them.

So I had gone along quite confident in my ability to be included. The church was traditionally pewed, with aisles, so spotting a pitch with good sight lines was the first task. The church warden wasn't comfortable with that; 'that' being a wheelchair deciding for itself where it was going to sit. The wheelchair was directed to a wide aisle between blocks of pews; empty, dark and lonely, save for an ominous chest (could have swallowed me and the wheelchair) and told I would be alright there. No I won't - what about my friend ? " Well she can sit anywhere ...": No, She and I sit together. I and my wheelchair left the church warden to figure out eventually that wheelchairs, like bipeds, like to be with the rest of the audience, not put somewhere deemed suitable for wheelchairs only. Is it any wonder that some people are afraid of letting their children talk to wheelchairs or use disabled toilets. Aliens. Bitch. Except she wasn't of course, just ignorant. But she is a churchwarden, and inclusivity is her job and she will have received training for it - I bet the trainers weren't dis-abled.

I had forgiven her by the time she served me a Pimms in the interval. Yes, I love going to church ! The Pimms with summer strawberries and leaves of lemon balm and mint, highlighted the unseasonal tempest rattling the stone tiled church roof.

Rant No. 2

This rant has been removed by the editor, as all is forgiven.


Apology No. 1

If it is needed, it is only the exception like Rant No. 2 above, that proves the rule that disabled males are generally more compassionate, open, friendly, witty and wise, than able bodied males. In my experience.

Rant No. 3

SC&H have almost at last finally yes really, agreed that I need wheelchair access into my home, and to principle downstairs rooms and a wheelchair accessible bathroom. After three years of my asking. See earlier post.

At the meeting this week I had the bizarre argument, that led to the first (and second) time I have ever used the expletive 'f--k that' in front of (not at or to) my occupational therapist and care manager/social worker. OT said: wheelchair access to principle rooms, means to the door, not necessarily in the entire room. F that I said and burst into tears. (I was so so tired after three years of arguing my case). Sobbing... (oh for f's sake, let it all out...): Are you seriously trying to tell me that I can sit in my wheelchair and look at my kitchen from the widened door, but not actually use the kitchen, ditto the sitting room. She backed down on that.

And, (blowing my nose loudly) I asked boldly: are 'they' going to do the building work in two stages, so that I can still get into the house, and move all my furniture and my life upstairs and seal off downstairs rooms against builder's dust and muck ?

No, it will be done all together, will take about three months, so we will get you a temporary housing association tenancy. F that I said (second time) ... you are joking (she is newish to the job). I know someone disabled who had to wait eighteen months for a housing association tenancy; homeless and camping with relatives, their life and belongings put in storage. Not a hope in hell of that happening at the same time the builders are in. Temporary stalemate, but that is what they are paid to sort out.

Not me, I'm tired, I have engaged in the battle, I have won the war; let them fight the little remaining skirmishes.

Rant No. 4

No, I'm too tired, it will save. If you wish to prepare, read CROW 2000, as homework. The Countryside and Rights of Way Act 2000. This law applies not just to rights of way on green bits in the countryside and coast, but also urban rights of way (through the 'vehicle' of LTPs: Local Transport Plans) so it applies to the footpath through the housing estate that is too narrow for wheelchairs, the pavement in the town that has a dropped curb once every half a mile. In CROW 2000 spot the references to C123Vs if you can - you won't; they are not in there.

In the countryside, at the coast, in the town, through the village, in cities minor and capital, rights of access to paths, pavements and other public rights of way and (newly) opened access land, wherever the term 'on foot only' occurs, in law that term also includes users of Class 1, 2 and 3 mobility vehicles - manual and powered wheelchairs and trikes. I'm a country girl so lift me over the stile somebody please.

If, having done your homework, you and your wheelchair wish to pursue the issues, let me know and I will send you details of how you can have your views included. Anywhere in the UK. Down here in South West Disability Shire, I am looking for volunteers, seriously. I cannot do it all on my own.

More pills please, waiter.

Sally's Blog Against Disablism 1st May 2006

Disabled by my medical conditions,

or

Dis-Abled by society's attitudes and the built environment.

Hold those two opposites in mind while you consider the statements in this Blog.

Much of what follows is familiar territory for people with disabilities and this is my attempt to add to the awareness of those who are not.

ALWAYS REMEMBERING - IT COULD HAPPEN TO ANYONE

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Disabled - OR - Dis-Abled

My Wheelchair gets in the way of other people at the

Shops

Theatre

Cinema

Concert Hall

Bank

Hospital waiting room

Doctors' Surgery

Do I apologise for my wheelchair

Or should the built environment provide ample space for

wheelchair access, manoeuvring, stopping and parking.

I need to use the toilet just the same as non-disabled people,

but using a wheelchair means I cannot go the village hall for

craft fairs, pantomimes, art exhibitions, theatre groups, parish meetings,

weddings, wakes and parties.

Should I give up on joining in village events

Or should the Village Hall committee provide a wheelchair

accessible toilet(and a wheelchair accessible fire escape, just in case)

In the summer I cannot go for 'Walks'

in the countryside, because of stiles rather than gates

at the beach, due to lack of boarded walk-ways

by the river in the village because it is a narrow overgrown rutted path

I can't do these things because I use a wheelchair

Funding should be made available for my right of access

under the Countryside and Rights of Way Act 2000 where the

designation 'on foot only' also applies to Class 1,2,3 wheelchairs.

I cannot make my garden colourful and productive

Because I use a wheelchair and the ground is too soft

the incline too steep

the grass is too high

and the soil is too low

Because there are no grants for wheelchair

access in my garden, for paths, ramps, raised beds,

and no -one has yet invented a grass mower to attach to my wheelchair

My neighbour told me my garden is wasted on me

Because she is ignorant

Because I am disabled

I am over-weight

Because the drugs that keep me alive

contribute to my weight gain

Because I am lazy and eat too much

I sometimes look a mess

Because on means tested and disability benefits

my clothing budget is severely restricted

Because I can't be bothered to take a pride in my appearance.

I have not had a holiday for 8 years

Because I cannot afford one

Why do I need a holiday, I don't have to go out to work.

My neighbour's husband threatened me with his fist

when I proved he had damaged my property

Because I am a disabled female who lives alone

Because I asked for it

BUT LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE ....

I employ staff who do the ...

housework, laundry, ironing, cleaning, shopping

You work 9-5 then have to do it all.

My mortgage was paid off by my medical insurance 20 years early

You have to work another 20 years before you have paid yours.

and last but by no means least ...

My husband left at the first signs of my disabilities

saying: " I need a wife who can support me in my career"

That was a real bonus to becoming disabled, which I only

appreciated once the shock had worn off.

My Physical Disabilities have been a golden pathway

to meeting many lovely, intelligent, articulate, amusing

entertaining, beautiful, wise

people with disabilities - look around all the other Blogs.

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It Could Happen to You - Help Change Society Now