49 there were complications

She had her first transplant
heart and lungs
in 1985.
She returned to her council office job. But
her body began to reject her new organs;
she had another transplant in 1989.
There were complications.
31 hours of surgery.
80 pints of blood.
Afterwards
she had no stamina.
Listless, falling
asleep, fainting.
She collapsed regularly.
Blackouts. In
and out of hospital.
2013.
Her assessent was at a test centre
eight miles from her home. Twenty minutes
answering questions. Her husband, who drove her,
was not allowed in to support her.
She was judged fit for work.
She typed her appeal
on an iPad
as she lay in hospital
with a chest infection
crying.
Criteria for ability to work include
‘You can understand simple messages
from a stranger’
and
‘You can use a keyboad or mouse
and a pen or pencil
with at least one hand.’
The Department wrote to her
two months later.
Six days later
her husband was called to the hospital.
Two days after that
they put her on palliative care.
The letter said:
‘We have decided you are not entitled to support.
You have been found to be capable of work.’
Her husband sat with her all night.
The next morning
her breathing changed.
It took half an hour
for her to die
drowned in her own body fluids.

[Daily Mirror, 26/05/2013, Linda Wootton: Double heart and lung transplant dies nine days after she has benefits stopped]

50 you probably won’t have heard

You probably won’t have heard much about the case.
A 33-year-old woman in the West Country
living with her parents.
She very poorly:
bipolar disorder;
she has been sectioned on numerous occasions
after harming herself.
In February she received a letter
from the outsourcing company
which told her she was about to lose her support
and would have to undergo an assessment.
She was found by her mother
and taken to hospital.
She’d slashed her throat in the bath.
Her psychiatric nurse
and a forensic psychologist contacted
the company, and told them
not to contact her directly again.
The company agreed.
The morning after she was released from hospital
she returned home
to find another letter.
She was readmitted to hospital
having slashed her throat again.
Her mother contacted a local benefit advice charity.
They managed to restore her benefits
without the need for further tribunals.
Last week,
another letter.
The charity again took up her case.
The company told them the letter
was computer-generated
and could not be stopped.

[New Statesman, 05/03/2013, The tragedy of Alice]

62 stop worrying

You are a fucking bitch”: a man’s voice.
Then the sound of violent banging,
a woman’s sobs.
Officers were on the way;
sobbing and breathing heavily,
she said the man had retreated.
Police arrived and arrested him.
She had opened her window.
If the man had succeeded in getting through the door
she was prepared to jump two floors to escape.

The woman was calling from her bedroom.
She had been placed in ‘exempt’ supported housing
after leaving prison –
a five-year term for serious fraud and deception.
She had a history of mental illness:
suicide attempts, spells in psychiatric hospitals.
She had been the victim of violent abuse
at the hands of a former partner:
twice he had fractured her skull;
marks on her arms; burn scars
snaking across her chest,
where he had set her on fire
while she slept.
The man hammering on her door that night
was a troubled alcoholic with demons of his own.
He was under
a suspended prison sentence
for making threats with a machete.
Police ultimately did not bring charges against him –
a result of conflicting versions of events that night.
“Officers attended the address just after midnight
and arrested a man.
It was alleged he had
been verbally aggressive to the woman,
made threats, and
damaged the door to her room.
The woman was not injured.
The man was later released without charge;
the property owner said
the damage to the door
was already there.
He would not support
a prosecution.”
A Probation Service spokesperson said
“Prisoners released without somewhere to live
are 50 per cent more likely to reoffend.
Providing basic accommodation on release
helps cut crime and make
our streets safer.”
The man was moved to another property.

Exempt accommodation: supported housing
funded through a higher rate of housing benefit, exempt
from caps applied to normal housing.
Prison leavers, rough sleeper, refugees and migrants,
substance abusers, people with mental health issues,
disabilities, people at risk of homelessness:
strangers
housed together, mostly left
to their own devices, with arms-length help
amounting to an hour or so of dedicated support a week;
a support worker
at the end of a mobile phone.

She has lost weight and become more ill;
thefts were so common
she now stored her kitchen pans and cutlery in her bedroom.
She described a fellow resident:
he had not been out of his pyjamas or had a wash
for five weeks; he kept her awake all night.

Access is via a steel staircase.
Inside, the corridors and shared kitchen and common room
are monitored by CCTV with audio mics;
private conversations may be listened to.
Bedrooms are small.
A hole burnt in the kitchen top,
rusted hobs. The common area and kitchen
are full of the belongings of one of the tenants;
crudely written notices in felt tip
on stereo, tv, kitchen gear:
‘hands off’.
Heating comes from plugged in storage heaters.
In the night it’s freezing.

“I eat two sausages and vegetables every night,
cereal in the morning.
I don’t drink, don’t take drugs, yet
it’s all around.
Nobody seems to do anything much about it.”
At her lowest point she tried to jump in front of a train.
She was pulled back at the last minute;
another spell in psychiatic hospital.
“While living here
suicide is the only thing
that goes through my head,
day in,
day out.
The owners say I am too much hard work for them,
they said
they didn’t have problems
before I moved in.
It’s not a great place to be.
The landlord told me
‘just ignore it’, stop worrying
about other people.”

[Birmingham Live, 25/09/2021, Chaos, fear and suicide attempts – life inside ‘exempt’ housing in Birmingham]