The State of the Rodent
Mar. 29th, 2021 08:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
supermouseSo, at seven o'clock this morning - 8am German time - I got an email, saying everything I've done is sufficient and now we're waiting on the registry office and a flight booking.
There's a joint account I never touched, so I have to go and say this is me and get everything actually working. There was a paperwork glitch that Pol and I had been going to sort out last March but pandemic happened, so we were waiting on his being able to come home, and it didn't seem urgent, since the money I actually live on came directly to my own personal account. I have no idea how much is in there. So, sorting that out is today's job.
I feel like an exposed nerve in a tooth but all over, with waves of hot and cold, and a fluey ache in all my joints. My legs feel wobbly. That's sheer stress. My usual opiate, writing, works really well, but it means being oblivious to the world pretty much all day. I spent yesterday writing, retweeting memes and Not Thinking About It. Today I have to get this one thing done and then I think I can Not Think About It. Random drive-by hugs have made me feel not alone with all this.
First effort this morning was passing on the info from the funeral director to Pol's brother and to Kira, then checking in on everyone who is grieving and letting them know they're not alone. Dealing with Pol's death is, as expected, really hard.
My siblings are being very practical and very helpful. My mother's housing benefit claim is finally filled in since she retired in November, and I'll get help with my PIP, for which I absolutely do qualify, but when your illnesses are all exacerbated by stress, going through PIP claims are just not worth it (which is kind of the point of their making disabled people jump through every hoop possible - for example, I know my claim will be denied, go to appeal and then the chances of it going through are around 70% and the process will take around seven months to a year).
PIP is not means-tested, it's there to level the playing field to make up for the extra burden being disabled gives. For example, I need a lot of ready meals, which cost more than cooking for myself, but I'm often not safe with a knife and find cooking a headache-inducing nightmare. There's also a bereavement allowance. It all ekes out the time I can live where I'm living. In the short term, there was some remaining salary, so I'm fine for a couple of months, it's all about years to come.
My credit score is ridiculously high, all based on my personal account. Regular direct debits and no defaults on the same account for six years seems to be enough! I've never had a credit card.
I'm on max omeprazole and gulping Gaviscon, that's stress as well. I'm slightly overweight by a pound or two and getting all my vitamins, so I have reserves, and I am making sure I get some calories every day. I'm also doing my best to at least lie down in the dark for at least half an hour at 11pm and then every time I feel even a little drowsy thereafter. I'm getting around four hours a night and I'll try a sleeping pill again tonight since I think it will get me an extra hour I really do need.
Dealing with the very personal fact of never, ever seeing Pol again is something that's coming in very small allotments. We texted every night if we could to say goodnight, and so just when I'm going to bed is when he's suddenly dead all over again.
So that's the current state of the Rodent.
There's a joint account I never touched, so I have to go and say this is me and get everything actually working. There was a paperwork glitch that Pol and I had been going to sort out last March but pandemic happened, so we were waiting on his being able to come home, and it didn't seem urgent, since the money I actually live on came directly to my own personal account. I have no idea how much is in there. So, sorting that out is today's job.
I feel like an exposed nerve in a tooth but all over, with waves of hot and cold, and a fluey ache in all my joints. My legs feel wobbly. That's sheer stress. My usual opiate, writing, works really well, but it means being oblivious to the world pretty much all day. I spent yesterday writing, retweeting memes and Not Thinking About It. Today I have to get this one thing done and then I think I can Not Think About It. Random drive-by hugs have made me feel not alone with all this.
First effort this morning was passing on the info from the funeral director to Pol's brother and to Kira, then checking in on everyone who is grieving and letting them know they're not alone. Dealing with Pol's death is, as expected, really hard.
My siblings are being very practical and very helpful. My mother's housing benefit claim is finally filled in since she retired in November, and I'll get help with my PIP, for which I absolutely do qualify, but when your illnesses are all exacerbated by stress, going through PIP claims are just not worth it (which is kind of the point of their making disabled people jump through every hoop possible - for example, I know my claim will be denied, go to appeal and then the chances of it going through are around 70% and the process will take around seven months to a year).
PIP is not means-tested, it's there to level the playing field to make up for the extra burden being disabled gives. For example, I need a lot of ready meals, which cost more than cooking for myself, but I'm often not safe with a knife and find cooking a headache-inducing nightmare. There's also a bereavement allowance. It all ekes out the time I can live where I'm living. In the short term, there was some remaining salary, so I'm fine for a couple of months, it's all about years to come.
My credit score is ridiculously high, all based on my personal account. Regular direct debits and no defaults on the same account for six years seems to be enough! I've never had a credit card.
I'm on max omeprazole and gulping Gaviscon, that's stress as well. I'm slightly overweight by a pound or two and getting all my vitamins, so I have reserves, and I am making sure I get some calories every day. I'm also doing my best to at least lie down in the dark for at least half an hour at 11pm and then every time I feel even a little drowsy thereafter. I'm getting around four hours a night and I'll try a sleeping pill again tonight since I think it will get me an extra hour I really do need.
Dealing with the very personal fact of never, ever seeing Pol again is something that's coming in very small allotments. We texted every night if we could to say goodnight, and so just when I'm going to bed is when he's suddenly dead all over again.
So that's the current state of the Rodent.
no subject
Date: 2021-03-29 07:42 am (UTC)Good luck with getting that One Thing Done today.
I'm glad you're getting at least some food and sleep each day, and that you have practical and useful help from your siblings.
no subject
Date: 2021-03-29 08:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-03-29 11:36 am (UTC)For the PIP assessment, I recommend finding someone who can take notes – this will help with the inevitable appeal. Every time I've taken notes, there were some stunning discrepancies between my notes (and what the person had actually said) and the official statements, ranging from omissions to blatant falsification. (In one case, the claimant said 'I cannot do [basic function]' and this was logged as 'chooses not to', which... NOPE.)
no subject
Date: 2021-03-29 12:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-03-30 06:12 pm (UTC)-DTL (can't log in for some reason)