Permanency and ill health retirement. Or Not!!

So the time is ticking by and I am getting somewhat twitchy about a few things.

Supportive people can explain the logistics will work, federation reps can promise that things 'should' go smoothly but when it is your life, your finances, your grocery shopping in jeopardy, going onto half pay seems to be all the more daunting.

Since August I have visited our new force medical officer, the occupational health doctor and she has made it clear to me that she thinks it is highly unlikely that with my various medical complaints I will ever be fit to do my job as a police officer ever again.

I have chronic debilitating Fibromyalgia with no known cure, I have PTSD, I suffer with Depression, I struggle with Anxiety and I have two prolapsed discs, but she feels after nine months off sick that it is too early to ask any questions of my force about ill health retirement as she says the application would fail at this juncture as we have not exhausted all possible medical remedies/cures.
She says we might be ready in 6-9 months time.

They all say I have to prove 'permanency' , that my illnesses cannot be cured, that I will not be magically restored to full health to serve out my last 2 years of my 30 years service.

What a complete joke this system of ours currently is!

Show me the hoops and I will jump through them all, I will moan and groan, I will post on twitter how dissatisfied I am, but I will do whatever you ask of me to establish the facts to satisfy you, but when you do not specify the hoops, when you leave me in what has been described as a 'fluid' situation what the hell am I meant to do?
It's like playing hide and seek in the dark, whilst blindfolded, with your hands and feet tied.

It is so flipping riling!

I am suffering with an illness that induces me to suffer extreme pain when I get stressed or tired!!

I wonder what they think in their ivory admin towers, Oh I know let's take away half of her pay, tell her that in another 6 months we will stop paying her altogether and then make any escape from our employment as improbable to conquer as reaching the summit of Everest alive! GRRR

To what end? Whom does it serve? I gather the government because they fine any police force that let's an officer retire on ill health! Or should I say Theresa May? Of course it's all chuffing marvellous for a single parent, crippled with a variety of ills who simply cannot work anymore.

It seems like the only person who could start sorting the mess out is me, but I'm a shell of my former self and the mere idea of fighting my own corner seems horrifying. Should I be paying out of my half wage to visit pompous over priced 'experts' to prove my 'permanency'? I could I guess but then I wouldn't be able to pay the utilities and I'd have to rely on a food bank.

Ultimately I am told it will be just one person, an SMP, Selected Medical Practitioner, who gets to decide if my woes add up to permanency and early release! Not a panel, not a jury just one solitary  person. I'd stand more chance of release if I'd murdered someone!

There is a set order of procedure and before any decision can be made the police authority must put specific questions to this medical practitioner selected by them (the ‘selected medical practitioner’) to determine whether I am permanently disabled for ‘the performance of the ordinary duties of a member of the police force’. The selected medical practitioner will consider such issues as my ability to:

• run, walk reasonable distances, and stand for reasonable periods;
• exercise reasonable physical force in restraint and retention in custody;
• sit for reasonable periods, to write, read, use the telephone and to use (or learn to use) IT;
• make decisions and report situations to others;
• evaluate information and to record details;
• understand, retain and explain facts and procedures.

Even if I'm assessed as permanently disabled for the performance of the ordinary duties, it does not automatically mean that I will be retired on ill-health grounds.  The police authority will consider my specific disabilities and overall capabilities to see whether there are alternative duties which I could undertake whilst remaining a police officer!

If and it seems like a big IF I was found by the selected medical practitioner to be permanently disabled for ordinary duties and there were no suitable alternative duties that I could undertake the police authority 'may' decide whether to retire me or not!

At the very least it's all so frustrating, at the worst it borders on being downright inept, exceptionally stressful and seemingly unfair.

Just let me go, please. Pretty please?

I'm broken, I'm a recluse and I'm soon to be broke!

Cut me loose, I want some sort of life back that isn't governed by stress and pain.

SIGNED -  A broken. chewed up, mangled mess of a former police officer.

I can't be bothered!

Since returning from holiday last week I've been in one of those deep pits of despair that only fellow depression sufferers will know. Floods of tears about goodness knows what whereby anything and everything seem to trigger some snot or other.

The day before yesterday I had my first encounter with the NHS, chronic pain service and my first impressions weren't great but then they could be somewhat tainted by the embarrassment of having cried on and off for an hour or more in front of a complete stranger! I think I expected some 'expert' input into my #Fibromyalgia alongside some guidance on appropriate meds. However neither was forthcoming as the service concentrates on pain management through methods other than medication so I think I felt a little misguided by my GP.

Then yesterday I had another appointment with the GP. I took along suggestions from the pain clinic nurse for him having specifically asked her she'd relented and given me 'off the record' advice on meds! The GP ignored it all with a flippant comment 'those pain clinics have some odd ideas' remark. In fact he then proceeded to remove the only #Fibro medicine I was on (gabapentin) after I asked to be swapped over to another before lecturing me as to the fact that Duloxetine wasn't even registered for pain relief, despite it's widespread use for Fibro by other patients! He then also decided for the second time in as many months to change my antidepressants overnight. This time to Mirtazapine, casting aside Sertraline the same way as Citalopram went not so long ago!
As I sat crying in front of him I couldn't help reflecting how humiliating it is to be out of control, especially as that is the second time in two days I've blubbed in public. He must dread me darkening his door!
I have painful shoulder joints due to calcium build ups on the tendons and he wanted to refer me for steroid injections and physiotherapy, I declined which seemed to leave him perplexed, 'why not?' he asked and the only answer I could find was 'I can't be bothered'
Which pretty much sums up the way I am feeling about most things this week, 'I can't be bothered', God help the Occupational Health woman on Friday if she starts with me, assuming I can see through the snot and tears. I'm bloody miserable and moody!
The GP asked me what I was going to do about work as he categorically thinks I'm not fit for any form of duties and look unlikely to be for some time. What can I say? I shrugged my shoulders despondently and told him there was another work case conference looming next week where they'd be asking the same damn question. What do I say?
Then he signed me off again until the 8th July and packed me off. That will take me over the half pay marker that's been set for the 20th June 2017.

I do know I'm feeling disappointment in myself that I don't feel like I am making any progress towards being healthier. I'm feeling guilty for 'dragging' it out if that's what I'm doing. I also worry about peoples tolerance for my continuing low mood, compassion fatigue must be on the horizon. Goodness knows I'm bloody bored of it myself, let alone anyone else!

That overwhelming feeling that there is no point in anything is back leaving me wondering as to why bother in the first place! That dragging misery getting out of bed in the morning knowing you're just going to have to do all the same shite again and that equally miserable business of trying to get to sleep in the first place and that's before trying to stay asleep. One thing I can guarantee is that I'll be comfortably asleep around the time I need to get up though!

I was drinking a lot of spirits last week on holiday, alongside the odd beer and I'm missing the sense dulling warmth that Jack Daniels brought to me, I drank a litre bottle in a week and that's not good is it?

I feel guilty for feeling so down when there are so many people with 'real' problems out there in the world especially after the horrific terror attacks.  How can I be wallowing in self pity when so many are being so strong?

The clawing, suffocating vacuum that is despair.

I stare into space unseeingly, unable to achieve an awful lot really.  The days trundle by with me managing the bare minimum of household chores necessary, whilst I waste time doing god knows what? In fact I'm surprised I'm typing this really as I shouldn't really be bothered! I need a tattoo for my forehead 'can't be arsed' !

Hopefully next week I'll be walking on the sunny side of the street again hey?! It's odd though to still have a sense of humour alongside the heavy suffocating feelings of misery. You'd kind of expect that to evaporate but oddly it seems fairly stable.

School pick up in an hour so there's another day gone and what have I achieved? A dog walk! Wow! I'm a zombie, I look like me but the insides of my head must have been hollowed out like a Halloween pumpkin and filled with expanding foam instead. I expect even if someone ever does try to put my brains back into my skull now they won't all go will they?! Let's face it when you scrape out potato skins they never all fit back in do they?!!

Anyway I reckon I've reached my ultimate level of concentration for one day, like a Buckaroo game that's about to trigger I'm feeling enough is enough. I certainly don't want to kick anyone!

Depression in it's physical manifestation?

So I thought it might be a good idea to tell you all about this journey of discovery into my depression and  what my symptoms were and how things came to the point at which I find myself today.


Back in May of this year I didn't really think things were any different to how they had been for many years. Busy times as a single working parent, juggling my responsibilities as a working adult with my full time caring duties as a single parent to a nine year old daughter.
When you're on your own even small ups and downs in the road of life can often become quite overwhelming and my life was no different to a lot of other peoples in this vain. Money problems, concerns about your children's discipline and diet, guilt about juggling work against child care. Family worries and emotional support being called upon from others. Relationships with co-workers and inter-office politics. Pets and their problems. Household chores and gardening. Shopping and saving money or trying to for holidays and so on and so on. My point I guess is there seems to be a never ending list of things to stress you, things that need worrying about. If you're not careful these seemingly minor things can all clump together like a knot in a child's hair and become insurmountable problems that seem impossible to detangle and deal with. Then you keep going, keep fighting often for years and years. All the time you keep dragging that proverbial comb through the hair until it finally and permanently it snags in the knot and there's no going back. Everything stops.
The comb is stuck good and fast and no amount of wriggling or jiggling or pulling on it will shift it unless you finally address the tangles and the condition of the hair!


The hair 'my life' I guess got to that point in May. The comb finally snagged and everything stopped. I desperately tried to pull the comb free but it just broke off leaving me with no way forward but to deal with my life and the issues therein. In May I started to feel physically very poorly, I had acute dizziness like a travel sickness. the world would spin and I had to hold on to things to walk around. My head felt like it was in a nut cracker. Physically painful and under constant pressure. It hurt and made me physically sick if I ignored the pain and tried to carry on. I started doing odd things and my memory and ability to recall things in the short term seemed to vanish. I'd leave cooking rings on, make two cups of tea having forgotten I'd only just made one. Park in a free zone yet text the car park a payment despite being no where near it. My body ached all over like having flu and my hands and feet kept going numb with pins and needles. Fatigue, I felt dragging tiredness. The smallest outing or event left me struggling to keep my eyes open and this still hasn't changed of yet.


I went to my GP on a Monday and outlined my symptoms. He determined that I had a tension headache and gave me some strong pain killers for my head. By the Friday I was struggling big time with the power of the headache, it hurt so bad I wanted to wrap it in cotton wool and hide in a box. I went back to the GP. This time he scared the life out of me by saying perhaps I had a brain bleed? He called me an ambulance, refused to let me leave and left me sobbing and in a complete panic. This was 10am on a Friday morning.
I live alone with my daughter and two dogs. I had walked out the door that morning thinking I'd be back in an hour. I had to arrange dog care, someone to pick up my daughter from school and be loaded into an ambulance and taken to hospital. No one to call to give me moral support, all alone and terrified. When we arrived at A&E the questions started and I was moved to an observation ward.


During that day I had a CT Scan of my head and blood tests but other than that was left alone in a bed. No food or drink, small amount of money on me. Stranded away from home with no transport and worried sick what my little girl would think when someone else's mum picked her up and told her I was in hospital. My mobile battery was ebbing away slowly but surely and I had no charger. All in all I lay there scared, alone and sobbing to myself for hours and hours. The CT scan was clear and the relief was amazing. My ex then brought my daughter to see me (under duress I might add) and I just wanted to collapse and be the needy one. She had packed me an overnight bag herself and that and the random contents made me smile. But I just wanted a hug and to be given some love but she clearly needed the comfort and I remained strong, as always, and gave her the support she clearly needed and tried to be bright and unworried. After ten minutes they went away again as it was by now 8pm some 9 hours after my arrival and they had decided to do a lumbar puncture of my spine to rule out meningitis. Watching my daughter leave and feeling the loneliness and emptiness return was like a punch in the guts and I just wanted to sob but the doctor was there straight away to stick a giant needle in my spine and tap my spinal fluid. Ouch that hurts! After the lumbar puncture I was instructed to lie flat for a couple of hours. One hour without moving at all and then after that I could go to the toilet but should return straight to bed. So after an hour at 9.30pm I got up and went to the toilet. I was hungry, thirsty, tired, lonely and generally pretty low and dejected. But the side ward I was in was now empty, the staff had moved elsewhere and I was bodily alone as well as psychologically. I thought it must have gone past the time of day where I'll be sent home surely? But I wasn't sure and went back to bed to wait out the next hour. I struggled to stay awake but I did and thought I could expect the staff to check on me at the two hour mark.... wrong!
I must have fallen asleep but I was awoken at 0130 hours my a nurse. She roughly shook me awake and before I could really even get my bearing she blurted out the lumbar puncture was clear you can leave now I'll call you a taxi. With that and with me still wiping the sleep from my eyes she walked away. The tears came. I started to panic whether I had enough money for a taxi and started after her asking how much it would be from there to home. She shrugged her shoulders. I also asked what happened now? She seemed confused. I said about my symptoms and why I was here. She shrugged again and said 'see your GP'
Then I started wondering how else I could get home. I couldn't wake friends at this time of the day, the buses weren't running and my back hurt badly from the LP and walking across town in the middle of the night to the station seemed really scary and a bleak prospect. There was no warmth from anyone. No one said I could sit in a room until morning or even in the empty bed for a few more hours. I was being chucked out. In a matter of minutes the taxi arrived and I had to ask him quite shamefully how much it would cost as I wasn't sure I had enough. He was genuinely nice and for the first time all day someone showed me some kindness. He said it would be a set £15 and even offered to take me to my car at the GP's surgery. My back was agony and came on top of the remaining symptoms of a blinding headache, flu like aches and dead hands and feet.
By two thirty in the morning I was home and able to sob in peace. Finally I felt safe if bloody ill. But I was in my cocoon.


The following morning I could barely move but the dogs sitter brought the dogs back and I had to pay her £20 for their one nights stay. (Being ill is costly especially when you're hard up in the first place)
My daughter was returned to me too and there I was right back to having to be strong and pretending all was well in the world for her sake.


I returned to my GP on the Monday but he was away! A nurse practitioner saw me and fobbed my off with some pills and told me to come back and see the GP the following week. Over the next couple of weeks he ran various series' of tests but everything came back as negative, except for a neck x-ray showing I had cervical spondylitis, and a blood test that showed at some point unbeknown to me I had had glandular fever. After a couple of weeks though he decided the only way forwards was to refer me for a neurology consultant appointment on an urgent referral due to the continued headaches. It was a shock when the appointment came through as the 28th August! Three months away....urgent?! So after that point I just waited and waited.


Work got cross and started the UPP process as previously discussed on earlier blogs and I continued to feel horrible.
They of course referred me to occupational health and the doctor there was actually really supportive and nice. He however was the first person to hands on physically examine me and he found a lump in my throat and asked me to get my GP to follow up on that!


The neurology appointment finally arrived, seven days after my step mum finally died of cancer and he was a stand offish misery of a guy who didn't have time for me. he stated very quickly that he thought it was a tension headache which swung me right back to day 1 at the GP! I had a tantrum, burst in to tears and left the consultation rapidly. I had pinned three months worth of hopes in him telling me something was tangibly wrong. I was crushed. I wanted vindication for the way I'd been feeling. I wanted a name for my illness. I sat in the hospital car park sobbing again.


My GP kept coming back to stress and I kept arguing vehemently against it. I had physical symptoms. I had been feeling atrocious for months. How could this all be stress? I was referred to the ENT department for my neck lump and on again for an ultrasound. Again that proved negative as the lump was connected to my cervical spondylitis.


Eventually a colleague and friend from work sat me down and tentatively suggested that for the UPP process it would do me some favours to have a diagnosis as there were murmurings a foot that I was swinging the lead and skiving. In reality I think she was actually saying look inside yourself, look in the mirror, look at your tangled hair and the comb stuck there!! I felt cornered, caught and like an animal in the headlights.


But the more I thought on her words the truer they became and finally I when I went back to the GP and I said I think it may possibly be depression? A wry knowing smile decorated his face and he looked like someone that had known for ages but who had been waiting for me to catch up with the truth. He prescribed some anti-depressants and a sick note that runs out this Monday. Sadly this realisation probably came to late for me to tackle it's implications effectively as I think I probably needed longer in this knowledge to take the counselling (I'm on a 6-12 week waiting list) and get more equipped to go back and face the world. But as half pay looms at the six month mark of being off work I simply have no choice but to go back to work.


I'm still struggling with my physical symptoms.


I'm still dog tired for doing very little.


I'm still very fragile mentally........ but I guess the comb is finally free and I perhaps can always go and buy myself some detangling spray?!


Dread wells in my guts and there's the familiar panicky lump in my throat as next week looms :-(

Soul Searching

Do people generally spend time psychoanalysing themselves or am I just a complete freak? Since writing my last post I have had to do a lot of soul searching.


I was awaiting figures you may recall for the half pay scenario to show me how bad things would be if I was still off work sick and the half pay kicked in as of 17/11. Well I'm not too good at maths but the general picture painted to me is that going onto half pay is a no no. Especially if your trouble is stress, anxiety and depression because there are so many variables, and variables' mean uncertainty and uncertainty means stress.  There's the unpredictability of an ESA claim from the DWP and whether or not you would be awarded the £72 a week for 13 weeks and there's also an immense chapter and verse type 52 page form, detailing your bust size to how many times a week you fart, to fill out in order to be assessed for it. There's also a claim to be made and paperwork to be completed for the police federation group insurance which would I'm told make up 25% of your gross salary. There's also the the fact you'd be even further removed from the work place and dealing with the stress of ever climbing back on the work train. In fact it was made perfectly clear to me that this was not a viable option and therefore the only way forwards is back to work.


The next hurdle is whether or not the force will still decide tomorrow to put me on stage one of the unsatisfactory performance procedures, and then to work out how/where and for how long I go back to work in the first instance. I've been told to consider what are my stress factors, to identify them so they can be considered and possibly circumnavigated.


Well people in general trigger my stress so let's clear them out the way first off!!... yes all of them!


In all seriousness every time I sit and consider this question seriously I start to panic and move away from the thoughts so I can calm down. I'm already feeling panicked and tight chested just thinking about going up to headquarters for this meeting tomorrow. I've been told not to speak during the meeting and let the fed rep do it all!! I hope I don't have a Tourette's style outburst! Sticking tape may be called for!


It's been suggested I work away from my normal station to start with...but I think that's counterproductive. But the advice is confused because in one breath it's you have to face coming back sometime but in the next breath it's work somewhere else. How is that facing things? It just postpones the inevitable and leaves me anxious about what's being said about me working elsewhere by my normal work colleagues' . Plus I'd have to explain to whomever I ended up working with why I'm there for a small amount of time. No back to normal it has to be and let's hope the elastic band in my head doesn't snap! So it's half term this week and my sick note expires on the 2/11. So I'll go back to my GP 3/11, get signed back with a prescriptive detailed 'fit' note and bite the bullet and go back to my normal office and face the music.


Easy to write, not so easy to do! What do I wear tomorrow? Business clothes? But then I'll look 'too' together. Make Up? Or go looking gaunt and manic! Or dirty jeans so I look as unkempt on the outside as I feel on the inside?! God knows...?  I can't even plan that in my head without feeling queasy and why is that? Let's face it all I have to do is drive there, sit in a meeting saying nothing and leave again! I guess it's being judged, being pitied, or maybe being despised and yes definitely being talked about when I'm not there. Just being a focal point isn't comfortable is it?


Something else that troubles me is just finding the motivation and energy to go back to work. Getting out of bed to walk dogs, to get my daughter ready for school. Getting her to school. Getting to work on time. Running around at work, running home. Collecting her from childcare. Making tea and feeding her. Doing her reading etc. walking the dogs again. My working days are endless and full of chores. Yet at the moment just finding the energy or the inclination to switch on the telly, or pick socks off the floor is challenging and difficult. How the hell am I going to get all that done again every day? I sit and stare in to space and time just ebbs by like water in a river.


I feel so lost. I feel so crumpled and inept. I feel like the piece of paper that's been screwed up as it's unwanted and useless. I feel like the bit that's been thrown at the bin yet missed the receptacle and landed lonely and spent on the floor somewhere nearby. The piece of paper that was almost useful once but then was abandoned and left in a crumpled heap on the floor.


I'll let you know how tomorrow goes!

Half Pay Dilemmas

So today is the 23rd October 2014....I will be on half pay from my part time role as a police sergeant as of the 17th November 2014 and quite possibly bankrupt shortly thereafter!!


Golly I have to joke a bit because just when I thought I was making some headway (no pun intended) the ground goes and shifts from under my feet again. I feel like f I didn't try and lighten my darkness a little I might just end up hiding under the duvet for the foreseeable future. I do feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff hanging on to my normality but only just and I really do feel only a very short distance away from disaster. My head space is so fragile and splintered.


I must look calm and normal though as nobody seems to know or guess. In fact people keep saying 'you look so well' and I just keep wishing that I felt just a fraction of that wellness in reality.


Do these things feelings happen to other people or just depression sufferers? It seems to me that I keep picking myself up off the floor like a proverbial skittle that's been knocked over and just as I regain my balance and think 'yes I can stand firm and not wobble' another blooming bowling ball hits me and BANG there I go again!


Yesterday I arranged a meeting with my police federation rep (union rep) to discuss the fact that as of the 2012 update to police regulations the force now view my long term absence through ill health purely through business eyes and ask themselves 'is she providing us value for money?' The answer clearly is no I am not in the eyes of HR. They then can consider implementing unsatisfactory performance procedures. Apparently there are three stages to this process and the ultimate sanction after stage three could be the force dispensing with my services. I am currently being considered for placement on stage 1. I have to attend a meeting with my line manager, a representative from HR and my federation rep next Monday the 27th October 2014 when the decision whether or not to place me on stage 1 will be decided.


So yesterday we were discussing this process and also the notice that I have had from my deputy chief constable placing me on half pay as of the 17th November 2014.


The fed rep is a genuinely nice guy with huge empathy and communication skills. He has come highly recommended as someone that will fight my corner tooth and nail and also someone that knows his stuff inside and out. I have been told to trust him implicitly and follow his lead. Looking at the federation in isolation for a minute the reps don't get a lot extra if anything for putting themselves out an amazing amount for others. They look after multiple officers who are generally going through utterly life changing crap situations. This is a huge commitment on top of their day jobs, often as front line officers and I for one am very thankful.   He said to me yesterday if you want to speak to me at three in the morning just text me and I think he genuinely meant it too.


So it took me somewhat aback when he said to me out of the blue yesterday 'I want you to go back to work' I was shocked to be honest but when he rationalised to me why he thought it was for the best I could see it made perfect sense. Sitting there in that room at headquarters it did seem to make perfect sense. He said he thought it would be best if I worked reduced hours a couple of times a week and at a different location to where I normally worked. Again perfectly logical. He asked me what I thought... I knew the idea of going onto half pay was terrifying me and the not knowing if I'd be able to pay the bills was an immense weight around my neck so it felt the only rational way forwards was to agree and I did agree if with a fairly large dose of trepidation running through my veins. But as I've said I've been told he's the best and to trust in him.


So I left and started the drive home. Well dear goodness I wasn't expecting the panic attack that ensued or the tears. I wasn't shocked that my head felt like it was going to explode as the splitting pain in my head has been a constant since May. But I was utterly surprised by the violent physical reaction to the thought of returning to work and to say it was overwhelming and hugely scary is an understatement. My chest tightened and my breathing became laboured, my eye sight blurred and I felt really dizzy. My joints all started aching very painfully and my right hand went numb again. I felt physically sick like I had eaten a chunk of food far too big to swallow and it was stuck at the base of my throat.


I had to go and pick my daughter and her friend up from school and it was all I could do to function and communicate with them but carry on I did.


Later after my daughters friend had gone home and I'd done the swimming lesson shuttles to and from the pool I had a text from my best friend asking me how things had gone with the fed rep. I replied that I'd been shocked that he had asked me to return to work, told her that I had agreed at the time but that I had since gone in to meltdown and been very tearful.


This whole reaction and chain of events is very worrying and has left me with the obvious question... 'if this is how the mere suggestion has rendered me, how will the actuality play out?'


I will draw an analogy here....an Olympic athlete breaks his leg just before the main race. His coach says never mind you can still compete. Yes he could but he'd fall flat on his face, he certainly wouldn't win and he'd feel pretty humiliated wouldn't he? That's how I think going back to work is likely to play out for me. I'll fall on my face (not literally although I'd never rule it out completely) , make a prat of myself (some would say inevitable) and I wouldn't win the day and be a healthy rounded person.

BUT and it's a blooming BIG BUT

I am a single parent with bills and commitments how can I not go back to work? So now I've started thinking perhaps I could ask the GP for some form of drug that would quell the panic attacks? A sedation type pill that would just get me through? Or once I got there would I actually cope okay and it's just the fear of it provoking the panic? But we must also remember that I'm only two weeks in to anti-depressant pills and they make take longer to have a positive affect mightn't they?


So when I woke up this morning I decided I needed to know the figures. Exactly what was the difference from where I'm at now to where I'd be on half pay?


Because the half pay would get topped up with a federation group insurance payment plus I'd be able to claim ESA from the DWP apparently. So I've asked for the figures to be worked out if at all possible because just scaremongering and telling me I'd be worse off isn't helpful. Plus I've asked if I can suspend my pension contributions temporarily or whether that's a one off decision. In or out so to speak. Once I can see this amount versus the other amount I'm hoping I'll know better whether it's a necessary evil just to survive.


So as of now I await those figures. Then I'll go and see my GP .... and then I have a pretty vast decision to make.....


make or break literally!


I'll let you know x