Father's Day

Father's Day is difficult for me.

My parents split up when I was three.  I don't remember Dad being at home at all - all of my "dad" memories are after he left, after he moved in with mum's younger sister.

In fact, I can only think of a couple of nice memories of my dad - including the time we pretended to do Torvill & Dean's Bolero with me on roller skates, in his front room, and the time at my mum's funeral when I got literally the only hug I ever remember him giving me.

Most of my "go to" Dad memories are of him either being distant, or not there at all, or putting other people ahead of me.

I was 5.  I had measles.  I wanted my Daddy - I cried for him for two days, apparently.  He turned up *eventually*.  According to my mum, I then pretended to be asleep when he visited.

I was 14.  I was in the orchestra for the school's performance of The Mikado.  Dad was invited but (even though the show was on for four or five nights) couldn't make it.  I can't remember him EVER coming to a school "thing".

I was 19.  I thought it was time to face my demons - which involved telling my Dad and step-mum (mum's younger sister) that I had been repeatedly sexually assaulted between the ages of 10 and 13 by step-mum's son (my cousin/step-brother).  Did he believe me?  No.  Because cousin/step-bro said he didn't do it.

I was 23.  I'd just been beaten up by my brother (not dad's son).  Dad lived a ten minute walk away.  It took him three days to come and see me - and then it was only to tell me that I should drop the charges against my brother.  I didn't.

Later that same year, I had decided that I wanted to get to know my dad as an adult (yeah, I'd obviously been watching too much Jerry Springer or Jezza Kyle!).  I spoke to him, telling him this, only to get back "The worst mistake I ever made was marrying your mother...and then YOU came along".

And now he has alzheimers and I'm conflicted. The shell of the person looks like my dad, but it's not my dad.  Because my dad is an arsehole.  A toxic, nasty person.

WCA...take 2

OK, so after what seemed like a zillion letters, I've finally had my WCA for ESA.  It was annoying having so many, because I'd get an appointment date through, contact Judith to see if she could come with me (and, at times, she would change her plans so she could), only to get another letter within a couple of days with a different date/time on.

It couldn't have been more different from the first one, blogged about here.  I was the first appointment of the afternoon session, so was seen relatively close to my appointment time.  Not "on time", but within ten minutes.

Again, Judith came with me - I really don't know what I would do without her in my life <3 - and, again, I wore my "I'm the one the Daily Mail warned you about" T-shirt.

So, we follow the nice lady into the room.  If I was a wheelchair user on my own, I would've struggled getting through the heavy (fire?) doors - especially at the end of the appointment when we were finding our own way back out of the building.

She introduced herself (first name only) and asked me to confirm that I still wanted the appointment recorded.  Bearing in mind I'd had a phone call not three hours earlier asking me if I was still going and still wanted recording, and confirming that they had recording equipment available, I did.  Not changing my mind on this one, sorry folks.  She then asked if she could ask me a few questions before she got going properly, because my form was so detailed (thanks to Benefits and Work!).

No problem, says I, and answers the questions - basic ones about my current medication, what's wrong with me, whether I always use a wheelchair, how often I dislocate and subluxate, how my mental health is (because I have the joy of both mental health issues and physical disabilities).  I give her the most recent reports from my work's Occupational Health doctor, and confirm that if I was well enough to work, I would be going to my job that is still, theoretically at least, there for me to do.

She then leaves the room to make a phone call to her supervisor.  She's gone about five or ten minutes, and comes back saying she doesn't need to do the full assessment, she thinks she's got everything and that the DWP will be in touch.

At this point, I ask what her qualification is - she confirms she's a nurse, and I ask for her surname and  NMC number.  She gets defensive, saying she doesn't know it off the top of her head, and why do I want it - I confirm it's nothing nefarious, just for my records.  She confirms I can get it from the person at reception.

So we ask the person at reception, who can't find it and has to leave the reception area to get it.  She comes back with it on a post-it note, which is now stuck to my appointment letter.

We were in the assessment room for no more than 20 minutes.    Now just got to wait to see what she's decided...