Showing posts with label spoonie. girl-talk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spoonie. girl-talk. Show all posts

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

Why do we have a Minister for Disabilities?


Here's a quote about the first ever Minister for Disabled People. It sounds to me like he saw a great need for his role.

"Affected by his father's experience, Morris [Alfred Morris, Baron Morris of Manchester] campaigned on behalf of the disabled; his father had suffered a long decline in health and eventual death arising from gassing during World War I.[2] After his father's death, Morris's mother was not entitled to a war widow's pension.[3] Forty years later, Morris himself put the matter right by changing the law affecting armed forces pensions when he became Minister for the Disabled.
In 1970 he successfully introduced the Chronically Sick & Disabled Persons Act which was the first in the world to recognise and give rights to people with disabilities.[4] In 1974 he became the first Minister for the Disabled anywhere in the world.[3][5] In 1991 he introduced a Civil Rights (Disabled Persons) Bill and he has led campaigns on Gulf War Syndrome.[1]" (Wikipedia)"
Today, the position is filled by Maria Miller.

At this point in history, all of the main sickness and disability benefits are being abolished and replaced with new, more limited, schemes. Sick and disabled people have shown considerable opposition to these plans.

There has been a vote of no confidence in Maria Miller, carried at the Hardest Hit march on 11th May. This was the largest ever protest of sick and disabled people in UK history. Now, there are calls all over the internet for a vote of no confidence in Ms Miller in Parliament.

Sick and disabled people are about to lose 9.2 Billion in support from a 16 billion budget.

Maria Miller has not supported us, she has not consulted us, she has not replied to us and she does not speak for us. 


Not only that, but she misrepresents us! The very people she is elected and salaried to represent. http://fullfact.org/search/node/maria%20miller  She uses false statistics and claims that we support her government's plans. Recently she claimed that more people claim higher rate DLA for alcoholism than blindness. Not only was she wrong, but the implications of "worthy" and "unworthy" disability from a minister who's job should be to do just the opposite is shocking.

But this article really makes clear just how unworthy of her job Maria Miller is.

http://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/wales-news/2011/06/20/minister-defends-reform-of-disability-benefits-91466-28905798/#.Tf8Q-L8tyxY;twitter

The part that made me write this blog post is this :


"Disabilities Minister Maria Miller, pictured, said a consultation on the proposed changes, which attracted more that 5,000 responses, had shown support for reform of DLA.
She said: “There’s now a growing view that reform is needed, whether it’s from the Government or from the opposition or from leading disability groups."

The minister claims that this was "one of the most successful consultations of its kind". Yes it was. Because groups like the Broken of Britain asked thousands of sick and disabled people what they thought and spent months running campaigns to involve people in the consultation. Over 5000 people did indeed respond and they were overwhelmingly opposed to the proposals or elements within them. A typical consultation might have 50 or 60 responses. This brilliant summary by Rhydian Fon-James from the Broken of Britain shows clearly that the government response to the "consultations" was a complete and utter whitewash.
None of the legitimate concerns were addressed. 


This woman is not a Minister for Disabled People and does nothing to speak for us in Parliament. She appears to be no more than a Minister for Propaganda and I'd like to know why we pay her a salary at all?
 
Mr Cameron I can save you a little deficit. Cut the Minister for Disabled People. I can assure you that none of us will notice at all.



Actually that's not true. Our lives would improve without her constant ignorance displayed in both the press and in Parliament. 

Friday, 10 June 2011

Girl Talk - Spoonie Style Snippets

Girl Talk – Spoonie Style Snippets

By Kaliya Franklin and Sue Marsh


“How’s it going then, is he lovely?”
“Yeah, very”
“And did you manage the sex ok, not too many dislocations?”
“Yes - plenty. But it didn’t get in the way, which says a lot about him”
 “Excellent” 


“What are we going to wear for this posh London conference?”
“I dunno – something smart that won’t show the marks if poo my pants. What about you?”
“I dunno – something smart that won’t flash my knickers to the whole room if I dislocate my hips”
“Sweat pants and trainers then?”
“Yeah – do you think they make them in the style of a suit?”
“They must do - the jegging version of workwear”
“That’ll work…and hey, we’re not well anyway. They’ll expect us to be in our pyjamas”


“How did you know he was the right man for you?”
“ I tried to hide my condition from him, but he insisted if we were going to be together he had to know”
“Aww. He’s such a sweetheart”
“Yep. A couple of months after we got together I was really sick and in hospital. He slept outside in a camper van for weeks taking shifts with my dad while they both worked full time just so they could make sure I didn’t die of malnutrition in hospital.”
“Wow. No wonder you decided he’s a keeper!”


“I got dragoned by the receptionist”
“Didn’t you tell them the doctor put a note onto the screen so that this situation wouldn’t happen?”
“Yes, she just wouldn’t listen to me. Said it won’t be til 5pm and that’s that”
“That’s awful”
“Why, why does pain never matter ?  What if at 5pm I phone and he hasn’t written the prescription. It’s Friday. I’m living in fear now for the next 6 hours hoping that some benevolent doctor will put me out of my misery for the weekend.”
“That’s if the doctor even knows you need a script, did the receptionist say she’d pass it on?”
“Yeah, but she didn’t really listen to anything I said. I feel totally helpless now. I hate it when they do this. It’s really hard cos it’s a new surgery. I’m scared they’ll think I’m a rabid drug seeker and write me off. I’m just so scared now. I’m usually such a feisty chick and Dave’s role is to reel me in. But I so fall apart in these situations I just can’t deal with it and he has to. Because he hasn’t got the terror you see. There’s nothing you can do to keep the plea out of your voice, you can’t be the person you usually are because they hold your life in their hands completely. He can use logic and sense; I just get paralysed by fear like a little rabbit in the headlights.”


“What happened last night love, are you ok?”
“Yeah. It was steroid rage. They quadrupled my dosage and even Ghandi would get mood swings on that high a dose of steroids.”
“Any my face looks like a football, it’s not me when I look in the mirror and I hate it”
“You are down aren’t you love?”
“Yeah, there’s nothing worse than this for me. If that receptionist had just said ‘no problems sweetheart I’ll make sure he does it, I would’ve been ok’. But now I feel like I’m undeserving and worthless”


“I’m so happy. I’ve got an outside tap. I know I’m sad, but really it’s the most exciting thing that’s happened in weeks”
“Did your landlord sort out the other issues”
“Yes! I’ve got a spacker plug for my sink. I’m so happy. I’ve been here nearly a year and now I can use the sink”

“I reckon the new government tactic on dumbing down our protests will be to make sure we both end up in the support group so we’ve got nothing to complain about”
“It’ll be like, ‘hey look everyone, the system does work fine, we were wrong, woops, sorry’”
“Yeah. That’d be good.”
“ Ain’t gonna happen though is it, you have to present your death certificate at the WCA to go in the support group"


“I actually managed to do some housework this week”
“Wow, that’s good. Well done”
“My bedroom’s still knee deep in clothes and my oven still has a year’s worth of pizza crust to scrape up. But hey, I washed up and at least it’s made me feel a bit less panicky that my entire life’s falling around my ears”
“Don’t worry love. There’s still bits of chilli plastered to my wine rack from chilligeddon”


“By time I left my old surgery I was really good friends with the receptionists and the pharmacists and that’s half the battle. Because if they don’t want to help me and trust my judgement it doesn’t happen. Sometimes even the pharmacists would go through to the doctor, they never judged me for using pethidine. But I haven’t got that trust at my new surgery yet. I haven’t shown them I can be trusted, that I don’t drug seek, that I won’t lose my prescriptions or do anything that makes them even think I might be drug seeking.”
“ Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m so fortunate that my GP keeps me set up for pain relief at home so I never have to go to A&E for pain. And the receptionists know my voice on the phone so they always ensure I get seen or prescribed for that day”


“How’re the kids doing at the moment?”
“6 yr old told me I needed to put on a tiny bit of weight. And then he said, not so you’ve got a tummy like daddies, but just so you don’t get so poorly mummy.  I told him, but darling, that’s kind of what Crohn’s is. Even when mummy eats a lot and you do see mummy eat lots don’t you. My tummy doesn’t get all the vitamins yours does, that’s why mummy gets to eat so many cakes but won’t let you”


“I got interviewed the other day about political aspirations”
*laughs*
“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. But the thought of a spoonie with political aspirations. I mean the whole system’s against it. Remember our quadruple SpAd job share idea? We decided in equality terms it would take 4 spoonies for every Oxbridge SpAd. “
“And that’s before we even get on to the skeletons in our closets just from leading vaguely normal lives, there’s no way I could be an MP. “
“But…if you’ve got no skeletons in your closet you’re too weird to be a politician anyway”
“Yeah. Shame it’s not Italy where the more rakish you are the more successful you become in politics”
“Definitely. We could cover rakish. It’s just the fit for work bit we’re not so hot on”

“So what’s on the to-do list then?”
“Oh you know, the usual. Bringing down the government, radio shows, articles to write, threats of suicide emails to answer.”
“Then there’s that speech to write.”
“Which speech is that again?”
“The one for parliament that we’ve been planning for three weeks. Remember? The one we spent a whole day writing and at the end of it you asked me what it was about.”
“Oh yeah. What is it about then?”
“I can’t remember. Too much pain… Think I’d better go sit in a corner and rock”
“Yeah, deathwalk time. Then I’m gonna sit in a corner and rock too”
“Bye love”

"Me again! Lovely doctor just phoned me, asked how I was. Said she'd chase up my new chemo drugs and left a pain prescription at reception for me. Panic over"
"Yeay. Happy Ending!"
"Bye"