I guess I should start at the beginning of the week. On Saturday morning, I finally received the assessors notes from the DWP. I had a quick glance through it before going to Gs. Just reading it made me anxious, and angry. He did a good job of calming me down though. So Monday I decided to read it properly, type it up for everyone on the M.E. group, and add my own annotations as to why it was wrong. It was a long hard day. I'm not good at reading at the best of times, so I kept re-reading parts, not comprehending parts, and reading bits without them actually going in to my head. It was exhausting, and I had to rest several times.
I was becoming more and more stressed as I read it, because of the connotation of everything the assessor had said. She scored me 0 on every single criteria. She has told lies. She has twisted things I said in the assessment. She has jumped to illogical conclusions. Basically, she's decided that I'm a fraud, and done her utmost to prove it with every single thing she has said in her notes. And thus, the panic attack happened, which I already blogged about. It angers me so much that this woman is probably sitting at home with her feet up, enjoying a film and a glass of wine, having screwed up several peoples lives on purpose every day. And even if I do get through the appeal process, she'll never know the damage that she's done. Or care.
I was exhausted on Tuesday morning, not surprisingly, and covered in random bruises. I'm struggling to sleep at the moment, without the added stress the DWP are giving me. When I got up I noticed that I had an odd itch when I peed. As the day went by it got worse and worse until in the evening it felt like red hot pokers being stabbed up my flu. I phoned NHS Direct who said I had cystitis (which I'd guessed), and needed a course of antibiotics. The problem being that I was going to Bev's the next day. So I had to go to the out of hours doctor. I don't think I was really in the right state to drive, but I went to Samuel Johnson in Lichfield anyway. The out of hours doctor was lovely. My urine was tested and bacteria found; I wish it was that easy to test for and prove CFS. So I went to Tesco, got my antibiotics, and went home. And of course, when I got home I found I'd left the oven on with my dinner in it ... oops.
So, Wednesday I drove to Bevs. It was an ok journey. I couldn't cope with music, which is unusual for when I'm driving, so I just had Radio4 on fairly quietly. When I got here, I got out the car ... and went splat. My legs were like jelly .. having to concentrate on every step I take, because it feels almost as if my foot isn't properly on the ground. I came in, and I flopped down on the settee, and went straight to sleep. Some visitor I am.
I texted Bev to let her know when I was awake again. We had a long natter about G. I met Beano, Bevs new kitten . I was so exhausted that I couldn't support myself to sit up, so just lay on the settee to talk. I checked my email and text messages and found that all but three people had cancelled coming to the party at the weekend. This annoys me particularly; why wait until I make the effort to come here, and then let me down? I hate that I always make effort for my friends, and rarely get it in return. I hasten to add that Bev and Mark are absolutely wonderful. Bev left me to have another rest, and I just cried into my pillow until I fell asleep again. She tried to feed me in the evening, but my appetite had gone.
I woke up yesterday (Thursday) morning at 8am. I couldn't go back to sleep. I had all of the DWP stuff going around my head. I kept drafting letters in my head, and thinking of things I wanted to say for my appeal. My head was spinning, and not in a good way. So I turned my computer on. First of all I wrote a cover letter for all of my appeal bumf. Then I wrote a personal letter to whoever it is that receives this stuff. I then looked up my old managers online. I found Eamonn on Facebook, contacted him and asked if he could write a letter saying that I used to enjoy my work, that I didn't take liberties with sick days, and that it's not my character to be a fake. I can't find Kevin. I found Lee on LinkedIn.
By the time I had run out of steam it was 11:15am. I could hear that Bev had just woken up and was starting to move around. I was exhausted and needed to go back to sleep. She came down and said hi, told me off for getting myself in a complete tizz again, and then let me rest. I sobbed my eyes out. It is ridiculous how much this is stressing me out. I got through an entire divorce without needing to go back on anti depressants, and THIS is what's pushing me over the edge again.
When I tried to stand up I failed. Every time I try and rise my knees fail me. With concentration I manage to become upright, but with every step I bob up and down, like a weird curtsying maniac. I've become light sensitive again, so am wearing my dark glasses. And my appetite is just gone. Bev's feeding me anyway. I rested for the remainder of yesterday.
I was hoping that when I woke up today I'd have my legs back, but I don't. We've cancelled the party. I'm already stressed and hurt at the fact that nearly everyone has cancelled at the last minute, but I just don't think it's sensible to go out when I can't even stand up. Plus why waste money on food I won't be able to eat?
I'm supposed to be here, at Bevs, for a week. All I can say is it may be longer if I am still in this state by next Wednesday. On the other hand, if I recover sufficiently before then I'll go home while I'm able, as I just don't know when I could crash again.
I was becoming more and more stressed as I read it, because of the connotation of everything the assessor had said. She scored me 0 on every single criteria. She has told lies. She has twisted things I said in the assessment. She has jumped to illogical conclusions. Basically, she's decided that I'm a fraud, and done her utmost to prove it with every single thing she has said in her notes. And thus, the panic attack happened, which I already blogged about. It angers me so much that this woman is probably sitting at home with her feet up, enjoying a film and a glass of wine, having screwed up several peoples lives on purpose every day. And even if I do get through the appeal process, she'll never know the damage that she's done. Or care.
I was exhausted on Tuesday morning, not surprisingly, and covered in random bruises. I'm struggling to sleep at the moment, without the added stress the DWP are giving me. When I got up I noticed that I had an odd itch when I peed. As the day went by it got worse and worse until in the evening it felt like red hot pokers being stabbed up my flu. I phoned NHS Direct who said I had cystitis (which I'd guessed), and needed a course of antibiotics. The problem being that I was going to Bev's the next day. So I had to go to the out of hours doctor. I don't think I was really in the right state to drive, but I went to Samuel Johnson in Lichfield anyway. The out of hours doctor was lovely. My urine was tested and bacteria found; I wish it was that easy to test for and prove CFS. So I went to Tesco, got my antibiotics, and went home. And of course, when I got home I found I'd left the oven on with my dinner in it ... oops.
So, Wednesday I drove to Bevs. It was an ok journey. I couldn't cope with music, which is unusual for when I'm driving, so I just had Radio4 on fairly quietly. When I got here, I got out the car ... and went splat. My legs were like jelly .. having to concentrate on every step I take, because it feels almost as if my foot isn't properly on the ground. I came in, and I flopped down on the settee, and went straight to sleep. Some visitor I am.
I texted Bev to let her know when I was awake again. We had a long natter about G. I met Beano, Bevs new kitten . I was so exhausted that I couldn't support myself to sit up, so just lay on the settee to talk. I checked my email and text messages and found that all but three people had cancelled coming to the party at the weekend. This annoys me particularly; why wait until I make the effort to come here, and then let me down? I hate that I always make effort for my friends, and rarely get it in return. I hasten to add that Bev and Mark are absolutely wonderful. Bev left me to have another rest, and I just cried into my pillow until I fell asleep again. She tried to feed me in the evening, but my appetite had gone.
I woke up yesterday (Thursday) morning at 8am. I couldn't go back to sleep. I had all of the DWP stuff going around my head. I kept drafting letters in my head, and thinking of things I wanted to say for my appeal. My head was spinning, and not in a good way. So I turned my computer on. First of all I wrote a cover letter for all of my appeal bumf. Then I wrote a personal letter to whoever it is that receives this stuff. I then looked up my old managers online. I found Eamonn on Facebook, contacted him and asked if he could write a letter saying that I used to enjoy my work, that I didn't take liberties with sick days, and that it's not my character to be a fake. I can't find Kevin. I found Lee on LinkedIn.
By the time I had run out of steam it was 11:15am. I could hear that Bev had just woken up and was starting to move around. I was exhausted and needed to go back to sleep. She came down and said hi, told me off for getting myself in a complete tizz again, and then let me rest. I sobbed my eyes out. It is ridiculous how much this is stressing me out. I got through an entire divorce without needing to go back on anti depressants, and THIS is what's pushing me over the edge again.
When I tried to stand up I failed. Every time I try and rise my knees fail me. With concentration I manage to become upright, but with every step I bob up and down, like a weird curtsying maniac. I've become light sensitive again, so am wearing my dark glasses. And my appetite is just gone. Bev's feeding me anyway. I rested for the remainder of yesterday.
I was hoping that when I woke up today I'd have my legs back, but I don't. We've cancelled the party. I'm already stressed and hurt at the fact that nearly everyone has cancelled at the last minute, but I just don't think it's sensible to go out when I can't even stand up. Plus why waste money on food I won't be able to eat?
I'm supposed to be here, at Bevs, for a week. All I can say is it may be longer if I am still in this state by next Wednesday. On the other hand, if I recover sufficiently before then I'll go home while I'm able, as I just don't know when I could crash again.
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