03 complicated jargon, red

She was diagnosed
with ovarian cancer:
major surgery
chemo
sickness
hair loss
complicated jargon, red
tape.
As well as working
her husband cared for her.
‘Having chemotherapy makes you see
everything through a mist.’
One day
she came downstairs
to discover her husband
lying on the living room floor
dead.
Afterward
the Department told her
she could no longer claim employment support
because her bereavement benefit
was five pounds more a week
and she was not allowed
to claim for both.

[Grimsby Evening Telegraph, 26/01/2011, I didn’t ask to be ill, I just asked for support]

23 ‘a pleasant lady to assess’

She weighed around 5 stone
6 pounds
(34 point 4 kilos)
and was being fed by a drip.
A history of illness:
Crohn’s disease,
osteoporosis,
suffered a stroke
in 2005.
A physical assessment
described her as having
a ‘slim build’;
‘a pleasant lady to assess.’
After,
she was told her support would be stopped
and that the Department
would try to recoup
a prior overpayment.
Then she received a new diagnosis:
lung cancer;
terminal.
She submitted a form
from her doctor
to the Department.
A letter came back
a month later
to say
that the information on the form
required her to start a fresh claim.
She died the same day.

[BBC News, 08/11/2021, Hundreds of people die fighting for terminal illness benefits]

38 a beautiful sense of humour

A government scientist,
he gave up this role
when he was diagnosed
with severe cardiomyopathy,
failure of the heart muscle.
By the end
he could not walk,
struggled to read.
He often fell over,
on one occasion
smashing his teeth.
Doctors gave him
a year and a half to live.
They were urging him
to have a heart transplant
to prolong his life.
He loved cricket
cooking, had
a beautiful sense of humour;
a classically trained musician,
he loved Beethoven.
He wouldn’t have the transplant.
He had no commitments,
thought it would be better
if there was a heart
for it to go
to somebody else.
He developed a brain tumour.
A government contractor
gave him a fitness-to-work test.
Three months later
his support was stopped.
He initially challenged the decision
but the appeal was withdrawn;
he felt too ill
to fight.
He couldn’t play the piano
he was so ill.
His mother passed away.
Seven months later
he fell at home
and never regained consciousness.

[Daily Mirror, 10/04/2014, Atos judges dying scientist fit to work – despite serious heart condition and brain tumour]

45 everything through a mist

She was diagnosed
with ovarian cancer:
major surgery
chemo
sickness
hair loss
complicated jargon, red
tape.
As well as working
her husband cared for her.
‘Having chemotherapy makes you see
everything through a mist.’
One day
she came downstairs
to discover her husband
lying on the living room floor
dead.
Afterward
the Department told her
she could no longer claim employment support
because her bereavement benefit
was five pounds more a week
and she was not allowed
to claim for both.

[Grimsby Evening Telegraph, 26/01/2011, I didn’t ask to be ill, I just asked for support]

51 they took

One night
she heard him sobbing
downstairs.
He worked long hours on the farm.
He would leave at five AM.
Some days she would not see him again
until eleven. He wasn’t scared
of work.
Over the years he developed heart trouble,
diabetes, terrible ulcers.
His health deteriorated from there.
He became depressed.
She was borrowing money off everybody.
Last winter
they couldn’t put on the heating.
They sat
with blankets round them.
He was called to his Jobcentre
in late 2012.
They took his blood pressure.
They never checked his back or
asked about his diabetes
and the terrible ulcers he had on his legs.
A computer told them
he’d been on the sick
for twenty-four years –
that’s the only thing
they really knew.
It was decided
that he was capable of limited employment.
His benefit was cut.
He appealed;
a ruling would take almost a year.
He didn’t have a year.
It started in his neck,
spread rapidly.
A very rare form of cancer.
He kept saying
“I wish I could win this case
before I die.”
One night she heard him sobbing downstairs.
He told her
“I can’t go on.”
The cancer took his sight,
his hearing,
finally
his life.
They
took his dignity.

[Daily Mirror, 19/10/2013, Cancer killed my husband, but Atos took his dignity a long time before his death]

58 we have to think this way

In the undercover film
the trainer tells trainee assessors:
“If it’s more than
twelve or thirteen percent eligible
you will be fed back
‘your rate is too high.’
That’s what we’re being told.”
During assesments
company health professionals
award claimants points,
reflecting the apparent severity
of their condition,
with information gathered
through a set of questions
led by a computer.
“We talk about mobilising,
which means
being able to transfer
from point A
to point B
either by
walking or
walking with aids
which is
crutches
walking sticks
Zimmer frame
or wheelchair. So
if someone has
no legs
but they have
good hands
they can sit
and propel a wheelchair,
they don’t score anything.
This is one of the toughest changes.
Recently I had somebody
with prostate cancer, but
of course that’s not traditionally
treated with chemotherapy. So
I gave him no points.
I couldn’t
do anything else.
Same
with breast cancer.
The hormonal treatment doesn’t count. So
no points.
I felt very uncomfortable doing it.
I didn’t
like doing it.
But I had no way of scoring him.”
The data is typed into a computer.
Patients who score 15 points
are likely to be found eligible for support.
Patients who score below
are not.
“It’s terrible sometimes.
People having problems.
Both hips, both knees, but
good hands.
Terrible.
You know
we talk about
modern work adaptations
but we know how it looks
from the other side.
There’s no jobs
for healthy people,
normal people.
We have to think this way.
Sometimes you feel awful.
You can’t do anything
for people.
You can’t feel sorry
and give them the money
just because you feel
sorry.
You’ll go on a targeted audit.”

The Guardian, 27/07/2012, Atos assessors told to disability benefit approvals low, film suggests