Negative Comments Surrounding Disability

In an attempt to bad mouth a UKIP Brexiteer a Facebook user suggested that this kind of right-winger should be treated as someone with learning difficulties. 

I found the comment was negative and derogatory to people who experienced learning difficulty, or disability. Was I right to pull him up? 

Why is that people feel comfortable using disabled people and their conditions as a hook from which to hang points of argument. Those of us on the political left would not dream of using women, race, or LGBT negatively to promote our points of view. Yet, certain aspects of disability, usually areas around learning, neuro-diversity and mental health, appear to be fair game.

Yes, I am a disabled person with physical and mental health conditions. Am I sensitive to the negativity surrounding disability, particularly those that are invisible. Yes, I am. But I don’t hold with bashing people over the head when they stray and use negative, or even derogatory, words and terms around disability. Talking to people, explaining to them why you feel their language and attitude towards disabled people is unhelpful and negative.

   

The Nasty Party is crammed full of scum.

The House of Commons is a bear pit at the best of times (code for worst of times). A place full of baying yahoos more used to being fellated by dead pig’s heads during Bullingdon Club drunken orgies. 

But then, some dastardly bastard has the temerity to mouth an insult at the prime minister. Forget that those complaining voted in a cavalier manner to consign millions to the vagaries of universal credit. That these, the same trough swilling neo-liberal pigs on a whim voted for the scrapping of the disability premium attached to employment support allowance. Or, that these are the representatives of the Nasty Party who have continued to dismiss the thousands of deaths of disabled people through the work capability assessment…

If Tories gave a scintilla of concern for the lives they are wrecking in a wholesale manner; if they stopped for a second to consider the kids that go to bed hungry as a direct result of their policies; if they recognised that their vicious austerity programme has forced thousands out of their homes. If! If! If! 

When the Conservative Party begin to act like decent human beings, I will vehemently condemn the manners of anyone who uses discourteous language. However, until that day the Tory Party can go and fuck themselves.   

Depression, how to kick the blues.

What is it with depression? Why do I feel so blue? It's not seasonal as these dark feelings follow me all year around. Some days I wake up and think: "What the fuck's it all about?" I don’t think that the pain I feel getting out of bed, nor indeed the pain that dogs me all day, is the driver of the depression. 

Late last year I attended some counselling sessions at which we tried to address the anger I feel. This year late in the late summer and into early autumn I underwent more counselling, this time in an attempt to dig down to the source of the depression. 

After six sessions I came away none the wiser as to why the depression manifests itself at inexplicable times. We did discuss areas of my life such as the traumatic head injury I received when I was sixteen. Though this injury left me with quite erratic mood swings, I don’t recall feeling depressed in the way I do today.

At a consultation last week my GP suggest anti-depressants. For years I’ve shunned medication for depression. At the moment I take four different types of pain-killers, antispastic meds, meds for an overactive bladder, pills for cholesterol, potions for my bowels, medicine to deal with antacid, asthma pumps and even medicated shampoo. 

At times I feel like a maraca as I rattle along, so I’m disinclined to pop more pills. My GP suggested Citalopram or Sertraline, another steroid med was mentioned but with a caveat of weight gain. I told the GP I would have a think about going down the anti-depressant road.

Can anyone out there advise me on the efficaciousness of Citalopram or Sertraline, or the downside to these meds?

Change of Venue

A message to people attending the 'Scrap Universal Credit' event in Westminster on Monday 3rd December. The event has been moved to Committee Room 10 in the House of Commons, Palace of Westminster, SW1 0AA. The event will take place at the same time, from 2 pm to 4 pm.

Again, could you allow plenty of time to transit through security and the Palace of Westminster. I look forward to seeing you on Monday afternoon.

Apologies for any inconvenience.

In Solidarity

Sean

STOP AND SCRAP UNIVERSAL CREDIT

For the past eight years disabled people have been subject to vicious attacks across all areas of our lives caused by the disproportionate impact of austerity measures and the dismantling of the welfare system. Social cuts have led to human catastrophe. This misery continues and will continue to spread misery and poverty as Universal Credit is more widely rolled out catching disabled people in its net.

The trade union movement, including the TUC, Unite the Union and its Community Branches have all condemned UC, calling for its scrapping. Campaigning groups such as Disabled People Against Cuts as well as Disabled People’s Organisations and grassroots disabled groups share one voice in their condemnation of what is properly viewed as a fatally flawed system.

Given there could be an election next spring we must look to ensuring an incoming Labour government scraps UC. However, we must be ready to assist our government in working on a replacement system. 

The TUC Disabled Workers Committee, Unite the Union and Disabled People Against Cuts would like to invite disabled people caught up in the universal credit net as well as disabled people who wish to contribute to seeking its replacement to a meeting on December 3^rd,International Day of Disabled Persons 2018. The meeting will be held in the Wilson Room, Portcullis House, 1 Parliament St, Westminster, London SW1A 2JR from 2 pm to 4 pm. Please book via: 

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/scrap-universal-credit-tickets-52955799221

You will need to copy and paste the link into your search engine and follow the Eventbrite instructions.

This is a ticket only event. 

The tickets are FREE and will be distributed on a 'first come first served' basis. 

You will need the Eventbrite ticket for entry into the event. 

Access: Think beyond level access entry

Are you organising a Labour Party meeting of any kind? Well, if you are here are a few tips to ensure you make the meeting as inclusive as you can for disabled people. My suggestions are not exhaustive, but are made to give organisers an idea of some ways to meet access needs. 

Access goes beyond disabled people's needs. Access can include child and general care needs, times of meetings, etc. 

Level access spaces. ‘Changing Places’ standard facilities for disabled people. Loop systems affording people with hearing impairments the opportunity to fully participate. Well lit spaces allowing better access for people with vision impairment. Paperwork in a variety of colours and formats to suit people with neurodiversity differences. 

And the list goes on.

Great. So, here we have a space that allows disabled people participation to meetings. Except…it doesn’t.

No, meeting the physicality of access needs is only part of the process. The space available needs now to be mapped out. If the space is designed to house 100 people seated, then this the number allowed into the meeting. This is to a) Comply with Fire Regs, b) Meet Health and Safety Regs, and c) Ensure a free flow of movement for all present.

Seating needs to be placed in such a way as to allow people to move to and fro with the least effort. Aisles must be wide enough for wheelchairs to comfortably navigate. All aisles must be kept clear including aisles adjacent to walls and doorways. Latecomers often enter meetings and congregate around doorways. 

Meeting organisers need to appoint stewards to ensure that full access is maintained throughout meetings. The stewards would be responsible for keeping aisles clear, guiding latecomers to vacant seats, assisting disabled people if and where necessary, operating roving mics, etc. 

When making vocal contributions people should be aware that even though they have a stentorian voice and don’t think a mic is needed, the mic allows people using hearing aids to pick up sounds. The Chair should include in their ‘housekeeping’ announcements the importance of people waiting for a roving mic.

Booking an accessible venue is only the first part of ensuring full access for disabled people.

Of course, if someone is trying to get past you in a tight space, moving 90° assuming a sideways profile and tucking in your tummy will probably afford the other person free passage. 

This doesn’t work for us wheelchair users. We can’t make the profile of our machines smaller nor do we have parts that conveniently tuck away.

At last weeks Dulwich and West Norwood CLP meeting I was met once again with access difficulties. Feelings of déjà vu predominate my mind when I arrive at almost every Labour Party event I attend.

This occasion on entering the meeting room I was confronted with several people who were standing along a wall blocking an already very narrow aisle. Eventually, the penny dropped and the people blocking ingress moved out of the way. However, by the time I had settled myself behind the last row of attendees, I noticed the people blocking the doorway and aisle resuming their former positions.

When I made a point of order the Chair asked for the space around the door and adjacent aisle to move. You’d have thought the Chair had posed a really challenging task for these people to perform.

What part of “Could you please leave enough room for people including wheelchair users to move around”, they couldn’t process beats me. 

The guest speaker then gave an excellent presentation on the issue of anti-Semitism. Sadly, the sound system decided to play up and she delivered her contribution without the benefit of a mic.

As the next guest speakers began a man walked into the room with an armful of chairs. He then positioned the chairs blocking me in. At that point, I realised I was wasting my time and I left.

I won’t be attending future DaWN CLP meetings until I receive assurances that I can attend without becoming the focal point of events. Being the center of attention as chairs and people move around is not my idea of fun. I simply want to attend meetings and take part in the proceedings under my own terms, not those set by the thoughtless actions of others.

Impose a regime of stop and search on the middle-classes

Stop and Search is tactic the police practice, predominantly, on young black men or men of colour. The rationale behind this trend is that these demographic groups are most likely to be involved in street criminality, such as drug dealing.

The policy of Stop and Search is counterproductive, in that it hasn't made any inroads into the illegal drugs market. Instead, it serves only to further alienate the police amongst many within black communities.

While society looks down and frowns upon drug pushers, it seems to ignore that the illegal drug market is a two-way street. Why isn't society as critical of drug buyer as it is of the seller, pusher?

Sadiq Khan has voiced his concerns of people from the middle-classes fuelling the cocaine market, which in turn triggers the drug-related gang violence.

In September the Guardian reported the following:

"Middle-class people consume more alcohol and illegal drugs than those living below the poverty line, according to a report by a cross-party group of academics and campaigners."

Again, pointing to the middle-classes and illegal drug use. Recently Richard O'Brien, on LBC, posited the idea that since the middle-classes are part of the illegal drug problem in London and by association the gang-violence, that the police should extend stop and search to white middle-class people.

Imagine such a policy being introduced. The howls of indignation emanating from the gentrified corners of Brixton, Clapham, into Battersea and Chelsea. Cries of infringement of civil liberties. Denunciation of the Met from the Ham and High. Hooray Henry's in Sloane Square sweating every time a panda car passed by. 

Of course, the very idea is ludicrous. Why would you impose such draconian measures upon an entire demographic section of our society to punish the deeds of the few?

You know where I'm going with this, don't you?

Empty apologies from my Labour Party Branch

While it pains me to say what I'm about to say, it doesn't surprise me. Labour's Coldharbour Branch is an exclusive club.

Last Thursday I went along to the monthly Labour Party Coldharbour Branch meeting. Again I was confronted with an access issue. The meeting was held in a venue with a high step at the entrance and door too narrow to allow my wheelchair ingress. 

Most of the members came out of the meeting room, so once more I became the focus of attention. That fucking nuisance making life difficult, again!

Of course, I accepted their apologies for not being able to take part, and I went home.

Today I received a copy of the Minutes of the meeting from which I was excluded. No mention of Sean McGovern in the apologies. Indeed no mention of any access issues at all. 

So, not only was I excluded from the meeting, but the Branch appears to be comfortable within itself to ignore the incident.

The Minutes themselves are also rather interesting when a discussion took place around equality. It was minuted that: 

"There was also in place a programme to fast-track BAME leaders and a programme to examine unconscious bias."

Oh, the fucking irony! 

There was also mention of the Equalities Commission report. I wonder, do any in the Branch know how many disabled service users or Disabled People's Organisations were on that the Commission?

There were none. Back in November, or maybe December, 2016 Lambeth Council held a presentation on the forthcoming Equalities Commision they were initiating in order to, I'm guessing, improve services for those who sit under the equalities umbrella (or at least those invited in out of the rain).

The council officer ran through a list of organisations and businesses. There were twenty-some, as I recall. On spotting that there were none of the Commissioners came from DPOs or disabled service users, I asked why.

The council officer looked at me as though I as though I was a Cobynista at a Progress poison pen night. Noticing that the officer was struggling, the Chair of the event moved the business along - as is the wont of a Chair.

After a few more hasty words the council officers thanked us all for our attention and the meeting moved to roundtable discussions; from which each table was asked to present the three main issues that would be fed through to the Commission. 

There were six tables, and so six spokespeople. Every single table had as their priority issue...REPRESENTATION OF DISABLED SERVICE USERS AND DPOs ON THE COMMISSION.

Did the Commision listen? No, they didn't. Back in the summer, this same non-representative body invited me to speak at an event in the new building in Brixton. The event was to discuss the Commissions findings.

My initial reaction was to ignore the invitation. However, the organiser of the event telephoned me and we had a long and very frank discussion. Lambeth Council, I argued, had totally ignored the disabled community in the borough forging ahead with a set of findings that in no way reflected the needs and concerns of many disabled service users. 

When I arrived I found that I wasn't a guest speaker, no instead I could ask a question from the floor on a disability issue to a group of Council Officers none of whom represented the disabled community. 

I declined the offer as I refused to legitimise a Kangaroo Commission set up by a disablist council that has the temerity to think it can make decisions for disabled people without the input of disabled people.

NOTHING ABOUT US WITHOUT US

Pick up your wheelchair and walk I was advised

For me, Labour Party Branch meetings are mostly terra incognita. The underlying reason for my absences from these meetings is the general lack of access. In the first place, meetings don't begin until 7.30 pm. As Thursday is a work day I am physically exhausted by 8-8.30 pm, and running on fumes.

Yesterday evening as I was feeling unusually alert I decided to give the meeting a go. However, on arrival at the venue, I found a 6"+ step barring my access. 

On learning I was outside several of the branch members came outside to discover what was the issue. One kindly gentleman offered to carry me in. "No thanks," I replied "I like to preserve my dignity when I can" I finished, tetchily. 

Ideas such as laying a folded table down to act as a ramp or using a decidedly fragile looking whiteboard to serve the same purpose were proffered. It then transpired that the inner doorway wasn't wide enough to allow my wheelchair to pass.

After some very kind words and profuse apologies all around I departed, homeward bound. 

Back at home, my PA told me that one man, out of earshot from me, wondered why I didn't get out of the chair and enter the building. I'm now wondering, is this stranger a modern-day Jesus? Why didn't he approach me and say "Sean, get up, pick up your wheelchair and walk"? 

Labour must introduce a National Independent Living Service for disabled people

There are a number of reasons I will not support the call for a new Health and Wellbeing department; or indeed any service that tries to inextricably link independent living to healthcare. My greatest concern is that by tying social care to the NHS risks the medicalising of disability, or even over-medicalising some health conditions.

Social care (or as preferred by many Independent Living) and continuing healthcare often serve different purposes. Most people receiving social care packages do not have any medical or medicalised interventions within their support or care plans. 

My medical needs are met by my GP, practice nurses and the NHS generally. At no point (for the moment) do I need specialised care or support outside the usual, illnesses, etc. While I look to PAs and support workers to assist me with personal care, shopping, laundry, and in the workplace. 

The Needs Assessment itself does not need to be overly medical in its nature for many disabled people. Social workers and care managers aren’t healthcare workers, though many of them now fancy themselves as accountants or bank managers for the council. 

In my home borough of the 600+ recipients of social care who use direct payments only around 30 have continuing healthcare funding. This equates to around 5% of service users. Naturally, this figure is somewhat skewed given the difficulties faced when trying to secure continuing healthcare funding. Yet the people needing medical type interventions in their overall care would still be far fewer than those whose needs are predicated around living independently.

Many of those who argue for SC to be an integral part of the NHS do so on the basis that all care meted out via the NHS is free, while current social care packages can attract quite substantial personal contributions – or as we see it, a tax on disability. 

There are many within the movement who have a vision of a stand-alone National Independent Living Service; a service that would work closely with the NHS, social services, and all relevant bodies; a service free of charge at the point of need; a service funded nationally.

In my view, we should be pressing a Labour government to set up a National Independent Living Service state-run and funded.

Currys successfully applied a reasonable adjustment for me today

Due to the inaccessibility of many shops, I do a lot of my shopping online. Shoes, shirts, jumpers (I’m very lucky in this area) and a lot of electrical goods are very easily bought online saving me the frustration of being excluded from shops. 

But, there are some things I really need to try on before purchasing, such as over-the-ear headphones – to eliminate the excessive noise from my upstairs neighbour I wear headphones for most indoor activities.

So, I popped into Currys in Brixton today to purchase a set of wireless over-the-ear headphones. The headphones I use at the moment are quite heavy and leave my ears quite painful when I wear them for a few hours. Therefore, I was seeking a good quality lightweight set of headphones that wouldn’t bankrupt me.

Commandeering a young salesman, I asked to try a set of Bose headphones. The salesman lifted the phones and handed them to me, but the lead was too short to allow me to try them out.

“Could you release these for me please as I’d like to try them on?”

“Sorry sir, but the lead is glued into the headphones.”

Very politely I suggested he opens the cabinet and releases the headphones. Not possible because the individual companies install their products and the locked display unit.

“You do know that under the Equality Act your company should offer me a reasonable adjustment in this situation” I posed to the young man. Of course, he gawped at me as though I was speaking in tongues. 

Very pissed off with this I gave the headphones a firm tug to see if I could stretch the lead. To my, and the salesman’s, surprise the jack popped out of headphones. Before he could utter a word of complaint I smiled at him and congratulated him on successfully accommodating me with this reasonable adjustment.

This reasonable adjustment worked a further three times before I found a pair that suited my ears and wallet.

Access to Work Award

Ode to Joy, Access to Work has agreed to fund me for a further two years. The first two applications for A2W in my current job granted me the maximum three-year award; for some reason, my last two applications have awarded me A2W for a one year and a two-year period. While two years funding is preferable to a single year, the inconsistency of these awards is puzzling.

Last year I was not given a satisfactory explanation for my award dropping from three years to one year. However, as I was undergoing some mental health issues at the time, and weighing things up, I decided my MH was more important to me than the energy-sapping process of an appeal.

When I spoke to the A2W officer a few weeks ago she explained that as my records showed no evidence of me receiving DLA this could impact on the duration of the award. When I explained that I’d been in receipt of Mobility Allowance for 30 years and the HR DLA since 2000 the officer actually responded sceptically stating that since A2W had no record of this then I might be mistaken. 

WTF? 

So, I contacted the DLA office and requested a proof of benefit letter which I sent on to the doubtful officer. Yet even armed with this information I still didn’t manage to secure the maximum award. It appears that if you have the temerity to stand up to these bureaucrats and argue your corner they still manage to stitch you up. 

The DWP is notorious for its ‘go-ahead-we-don’t-care’ attitude to appeals. It is glaringly evident that the DWP has no regard whatsoever for the criminally wasteful misspending of its budget. Their philosophy seems to be money is no object as long as it is not going to improve the lives of disabled people.

Disgraceful Accusations have no Place within the Labour Party or its Affiliates

On Saturday I drove up to Leeds from Manchester to attend Disability Labour's (DL) AGM. The day began badly with a leaden sky pouring its cold wetness upon us as we traveled to Leeds. We arrived at the Queens Hotel wet, thirsty and hungry.

For the past year a distinct fracture had appeared within DL. One particular post to DL's Facebook accused Marsha de Cordova of backing an Executive decision that donated £4,000 to the Fabian Society; stating that Marsha should be ashamed of herself.

When I pointed out the flagrant unfairness of blaming one Executive member over the group I was viciously attacked. The irony of this accusation was that due to her fighting for a parliamentary seat Marsha was unable to attend any of the DL Executive meetings. This fact was ignored by those whose only interest was attacking others.

On Saturday there were Motions of No Confidence in the Chair of DL. The Chair had announced that he was not re-standing for the position; indeed, he was not standing for any positions within DL. Given this I approached the person who was moving the Motion and asked if he would withdraw the Motion. The Motion would cause division and rancour within our numbers.

As was his prerogative, he refused. Then, as I predicted the meeting became very fractious.

OK, people are entitled to have differences. It was obvious that a majority of the people present were unhappy with the outgoing Executive. Of course people have the right to voice their criticism when they feel aggrieved. However, the way some of the DL members acted on Saturday displayed a worrying development within our movement.  

Knowing that a particular slate was going to take the DL Executive was OK with me. When people feel the need to change an organisation bringing together like-minded people to win the day is a legitimate way to operate. However, bullying and shouting people down is not the Comradely way to act.

In my view the meeting became toxic when a delegate claimed: “The Executive of Disability Labour is responsible for the deaths of thousands of disabled people”. This was a disgraceful accusation and I called on the Chair to demand the withdrawal of the remark. My request was met with inaction. At this point I decided I could not remain in a meeting that allowed such vicious points of view to prevail.

I wish Disability Labour great success for the future. Indeed, as a member of Disability Labour I will play my part in progressing progressive policy for disabled people. However, DL must censure outrageous and comradely language and behaviour with its ranks.

Burston Strike School

Sunday was a glorious day to leave London and head up to Norfolk. Just as kids are finishing their long summer holiday break it is quite apposite that trade unionists celebrate the Burston Strike School.

The significance of the Burston Strike School lies in the fact that the action came about as an act of solidarity by schoolchildren; and, that the action was the longest strike in the UK lasting from 1914 to 1939.

The school was staffed by Kitty Higdon, as headmistress, and her husband, Tom. Both Higdon’s were Socialists, and Tom Higdon had stood and beat the local rector for a place on the Parish Council.

As Socialists and decent human beings the Higdon’s were unhappy with the condition of the school building and the practices of local farmers. The Higdon’s complained about the school building being damp, inadequately heated, poorly lit with a lack of ventilation.

The Higdons also voiced their concern with local farmers withdrawing their children from lessons to assist on their farms, thus interrupting their learning. Though the children lived on local farms some would travel three miles to get to school. Sometimes they’d arrive at school soaking wet, and quite naturally on such occasions the Higdon’s would light a fire to dry the wet clothes.

The school management board used their lighting of a fire and a spurious charge was made against Kitty of beating two girl pupils; a charge that was found to be not proven. Despite this the school management board sacked the Higdons.

 Their sacking led to their pupils, led by Violet Potter, to going out on strike. The strike led to the Higdon’s, with the aid of trade unions, local trades councils and the Labour Party CLPs raising the funds to open a new school. Of their 72 former pupils 66 attended the Burston Strike School which ran until Tom’s death in 1939.

So, fast forward some 104 years on from the strike and here we were. Several hundred trade unionists and Socialists gathered on the green outside what is now the Burston Strike School museum.

The event was Chaired by Theresa McKay and Megan Dobney; and, the speakers included Gail Cartmail, Mark Serwotka, John McDonnell and Mick Cash. While entertainment was provided by the Red Flags (band), Kate Smurthwaite (comedian), Anto Morra (musician), Maddy Carty (musician) and the 1st May Band.

At around 1 pm the programme was halted while most of the strike attendees took part in the march carried out by Violet Potter and her school friends over a century ago.

Leaving the village was like being transported way back. We passed a few thatched cottages; and, if not for the odd modern sign, we could have been those children.

Taking part in the march was a real delight. The sense of Comradeship was heightened by a lovely sunny day with a cloudless blue sky, the air filled by the delightful sound of the RMT’s brass band.

The Burston Strike School is definitely a calendar date for all trade unionists. Could I also urge Unite London members to attend Burston to show Solidarity with their Eastern side of the Region.  

Tweezer May making an ejeet of herself in South Africa

It don't mean a thing 'less you got that swing. And Tweezeer, you're a fucking Tory, thus you have no rhythm; and as Tories are also vampires, you have no fucking soul either. 

Tweezer, if I may make a suggestion. You can't dance, so stick to what you're good...

Hmm, tricky one that. 

More anxiety as hospital lung function team discover a "you've really got nothing to worry about" nodule on my lung

Here we go again. 

About three years ago I had a cancer scare. Out of the blue, my GP called. “Hello, Mr McGovern. We have the results from your recent chest x-ray. There’s nothing really to worry about…” Oh OK, I think. My mind racing as my imagination kicks into action.

“So why I call me if there’s ‘nothing really to worry about’” I nervously interpose. My mind conjuring up worst-case scenarios, as the fatalistic Celt in me takes over.

“Well the X-ray shows a small anomaly on your left lung, and we think it would be a good idea to come and have a chat.” 

What is it with health workers and ‘WE’? Who is exactly is the ‘WE’ to whom she’s referring?

“Should I make an appointment?” I ask, my mind made mad as a maelstrom of malaises meandered through my thoughts since taking the call.

“No, it OK. Can you come in today?” 

More bells knell 

Eh? Why the fast-tracking if there’s nothing to worry about? Christ knows what happens when it’s serious! 

“Yes, of course, I can make it today,” I replied deflated, as any notion of ironic posturing seemed pointless.    

Turns out that after a series of tests including a CAT scan, at which I broke the Kings College Hospital record for projectile vomiting, a small nodule, about 4 mm, was found on the left lung. The nodule was observed for a couple of years and felt to be benign.

Fast forward to the present day. A while ago I volunteered to take part in a lung testing research programme. As an ex-smoker with either asthma or COPD I fulfilled the criteria for the project.

So last week I took myself along to St Thomas’ Hospital and underwent some lung function tests, a CAT scan and X-rays. The health worker told me that if anything serious manifested itself from the scan or X-rays I would be contacted. 

Today I was contacted.

“Hello Mr McGovern, this Dabria (not her real name), calling from St Thomas’ lung function team. We (that ‘WE’ again) have found a small nodule on your lung. But, it’s nothing to worry about. You will be booked in for a further scan in November.”

“Oh, that’s comforting to know”, I sardonically croaked. “Just for the record I had a similar call from my GP about three years ago, and it turned out to be a cancerous growth, albeit benign, on my left lung.”

“As I said Mr McGovern there really is no need to worry. If there was we would be booking you in to see a consultant. The report will be sent to your GP. OK?”

“No, I’m not OK. I’m quite anxious actually. What’s the timeframe for my GP receiving the report, please?” I asked in as polite a tone of voice I could muster considering I was by now choosing the songs I wanted to be played at my funeral.

“Your GP will receive the report when the consultant gets around to writing it (honest, her exact words)” she chirped, though what sounded like a clenched jaw.

“Oh. What ‘when he’, you know, ‘gets around to writing it?’ I suppose it’s quite nice playing a round or two on the Algarve this time of year.” I throw in for no other reason than with a break in my anxiety I felt it would be opportune to lob in a pointedly sarcastic parting shot.

Now don’t take this the wrong way. I have the greatest respect and admiration for our NHS. And yes, I regard the service as mine. Yet, sometimes they fall down on the job. In my opinion, there wasn’t any clinical reason for the lung testing team to call me today given that, by their own admission, that this was not a health emergency. 

By nature, I am a fatalist. Forget the glass half empty or full, at times I simply don’t even have a glass. Telling me not to worry is a bit like expecting Nigel Farage to have an epiphanous moment and converting to the Bremain camp – it ain’t going to happen.

So, here I sit trying to remember the lessons my Alexander teacher taught me; but being too bound by anxiety to give a fuck about that, instead wallowing in my own fatalistic fashion.     

Carnation for a Song

Dr. Joseph Healy my work colleague and friend is a man of many and varied talents. Joseph is an Irishman of a certain age deeply involved in LGBTQ politics as well as being a committed Socialist and devotee of the arts. 

Last night I spent an hour or so watching and listening to a wonderful production at the Young Vic in which Joseph starred. ‘Carnation for a Song’ is a delightful production that distills the stories of 14 LGBTQ participants.

The set has the 14 players seated facing in various directions. Each holds a green carnation. The green carnation is significant as it is a plant that is not found naturally. The use of this flower in the LGBTG culture may go back to Oscar Wilde who remarked in an 1889 essay that green was “in individuals…always a sign of a subtle artistic temperament…”.     

The stories were then told individually and collectively through song, poetry, dance, and readings. Each player gave the audience, through their chosen medium, their personal journey through life as a gay, lesbian or bisexual person.

A funny, sad, reflective, thought-provoking and highly entertaining evening. Thanks, Joseph and Company.

  

  

Royal Festival Hall falls down on disability access

Popped into the Royal Festival Hall this evening to use their accessible loo. The one sited on the ground floor opposite the magnificent yellow lift that makes a wonderful noise.

Anyway, got to the adapted toilet and noticed there has been a refurbishment. Trying the door I found the toilet to be locked. Then I spotted this notice on the wall:

 

On calling for assistance I had then to ask my PA to go and find the key to open a door for me to go for a pee. My PA came back with the key and I peed. 

On peeing my PA was about to return the key when I said no, we'll phone the RFH and let them collect the key. When the RFH employee returned to pick up the key I asked whether all the public toilets in the building were locked. She answered no. I informed her that in this case, the RFH was guilty of discriminating against disabled people.

In fairness to the worker, she wasn't able to answer me and deferred us to her manager. Wanting to get home I left. And I intend bringing the issue up with the RFH on Monday.

Locking the toilet is bad enough. The wording on the notice is outrageous. Who advised the RFH on this notice? Whoever it was certainly is certainly no proponent of the Social Model of Disability. The idea that disabled people have 'multiple disabilities' displays a monumental lack of understanding of disability. Then to compound their sins they insist the disabled person must be accompanied by an assistant.

So much for the concept of independence. This means, had I been alone last night, despite being a wheelchair user, with several impairments, I would not fit the RFH's criteria for using the changing places toilet.

 

More aggro with the DWP via Access to Work

God bless the DWP and all who fail in her. 

A salutary lesson a few years ago taught me to keep an eye on my Access to Work (AtW) funding anniversary. People with DLA and PIP awards are alerted a couple of months in advance of their award period ending. This allows disabled people to prepare for their reviews and new claims. 

Conversely, another arm of the DWP, AtW does not inform its users of their funding coming to an end. Of course, these are two separate services within the DWP, however, one would expect a bit of consistency with the rules of PIP and AtW.

When I got bitten by AtW nearly four years ago, putting myself in debt to the tune of around £3000, albeit for a few months, I now ensure that my request for an AtW grant is made in good time.

My first two AtW grants were for periods of three years, the maximum period. Last year I put in a claim for AtW and to my surprise, and consternation, I was granted an award for twelve months. Of course, I queried the inconsistency of this decision. Why after being awarded two three-year awards was I now reduced to a one-year grant? 

After going to-and-fro with an intractable AtW officer I gave up and accepted the twelve-month offer, with a promise to look more sympathetically at my claim next year.

Next year has come around, and it happened today.

A ‘very nice’ AtW officer called and asked me the usual questions, to which I gave honest answers. After about 15 minutes, as the interview was drawing to a conclusion, I asked how long the award would be, concerned that my current award was for one year. On looking through my records the officer stated it was probably due to the fact I didn’t receive PIP.

“But I receive DLA” I said, “Isn’t that an equivalent? In fact, I’d been in receipt of DLA for almost 30 years.” This information in no way moved the stalwart from the DWP who assured me that as her file on me did not have a record of me receiving this benefit it was unlikely that I was actually getting the benefit.

WTF! – I didn’t say this as it’s rude. Yet I felt like having a right pop at the fool.

For the next 10 minutes, there ensued a rather strange conversation. After each exchange, the poor AtW officer back peddled even further. At one point I had pushed her so far onto her backfoot that she splurted: “Mr McGovern, you do know these grants are discretionary on the part of Access to Work.”

Wow! A DWP officer resorts to implying that she has the power to remove or withhold a benefit or grant. What a gift. At this point, I asked for this inference to be given to me in writing. Suddenly, there was a change in attitude. The officer, whose manner started friendly, and had quickly changed to aggressive and evasive when challenged on various points, suddenly reverted back to friendly again.

We parted company with the likelihood (her word) that I would be awarded the maximum grant. So, my dogged tenacity possibly won the day. Yet I came away from the exchange, pissed off, tired, and pretty fed-up with the world. Why should my attempts to get support to enable me to work be a war of attrition? Why is claiming benefit or grants or public services treated so punitively?     

The Alabama 3, joined by Robert Chaney, and The Galway Street Club in one evening

Got invited to watch Alabama 3 tonight at my local jammin’ joint, the Jamm. On arriving I was met by a stage full of young musicians that looked like a rag-tag bunch of buskers joined together to do a super gig. Which is pretty much what the Galway Street Club is, in that they are a group of street musicians who perform their music at gigs.

The band play an eclectic range of folk, rock, blues and ska frenetically juiced-up on the sheer love of the thing they do…playing music while jiving. The energy they put into the music was complemented by a kaleidoscope of movement that left this member of the audience bombed out aurally and visually.

A band definitely worth getting to know; and I’ll certainly look out for their future gigs here and in Ireland.

The Alabama 3 unplugged, Larry Love, lead vocals, Be Atwell, vocals, the brilliant Nick Reynolds on harmonica and the exceptional Mark Sams, a.k.a. Rock Freebase, on bottleneck guitar, as ever beautiful.

However, I did feel there was something missing without the vocal contributions of either the beautifully voiced Aurora or the amazing Zoe Devlin.

A surprise appearance by Floridian troubadour Robert Chaney went down very well as Robert and the band performed a rousing singalong of “You are My Sunshine”.

Another great night out with Siobhan and our lovely friends.