My one month PIP-iversary

My body appears to be rebelling against me. Everything below my neck has decided it no longer wants to be under my apparently tyrannical control, and it wants to separate and become an independent nation. There’s a coup happening. Unfortunately, I’m not convinced of its ability to successfully function without the dictatorial leadership of my brain, and am refusing to let it go. It’s turning into a rather nasty stand-off.

So today I rang the DWP. I was expecting to be on the phone for the better part of a morning but I spoke to an actual human being within a couple of minutes. Which is a shame as I wanted that nice chap who plays Handel’s Water Music over and over again on what seems to be a late 1980’s Casio keyboard to have some more playing time. Anyway, I spoke to an actual human lady, who told me that because my PIP application was having such a nice time hanging out with Atos, it was probably going to be there for the next 14 to 16 weeks before it was ready to let me know what the outcome was.

So I sit and wait, and see if Atos decide they want to call me in so they can poke at my arms and legs and see if they’re really as knackered as I say they are. They probably will – I have one of those “but you don’t look sick” conditions so I imagine they’ll want to check I’m not making up the fatigue, excruciating arm, leg and joint pain, complete inability to sleep, horrible back and neck aches and the myriad of other fun symptoms that have appeared since this whole thing started. Let’s start taking bets now, shall we? What’s the odds on the assessor either a) not having heard of fibromyalgia, or b) if they have, thinking it’s one of them made up diseases?

I’m saying the odds are not in my favour.


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