next part ..

im preparing for another assessment, pre-review.

yep.

another one.

in just over a weeks time.

the difference is this will apparently be ‘independent’.

*deep sigh*

i note my body is tired. my brain is tired.

my heart / chest / emotions i think .. they’re tired.

almost tired like when i first moved out to the beach, but with less anxiety. so thats a bonus.

im thinking some of it is my age now. & some of it is just the repetitiousness of it all.

as in, here we are again, assessing ME.

not him. not the cunty pedo fuckface.

Me.

we’re assessing the psychological & physical damage. the injuries.

Again.

*another deep sigh*

maybe tomorrow i’ll feel differently, yah know, all positive & shit.

but today .. im just tired.


kpm ©


 

tonight ..

i had one of the most hideous encounters i think ive ever had, in a support group ffs!

its supposed to be, & used to be, a place to share knowledge & encourage its members, who are going through difficult shit.

somewhere over the last few weeks, its turned into a ‘i’m right, youre wrong’ shitfest.

groups aren’t really my forte, as we all know .. but because it was such a basic initiative i figured it’d be alright.

but No.

turns out assholeish-ness is still alive & well.

the good thing with online support groups, is in ends with the stroke of the delete button ;)

tomorrow will be about refocussing & getting ready for the first part of the ACC fuckery.

now that turns my stomach like clogged up toilet!

but, we’re breathing .. & breathing some more!


kpm ©


 

& so ..

i have managed & continued to manage my ‘injury’ every single day. just like anyone else with an injury.

next year is the last year i’m fucking with ACC & GPs.

the lawyer fee paid .. & i’m ready.


kpm ©


 

btw:

the ACC fuckery .. i decided to employ a lawyer for the next round, cos im over it & over the anxiety it causes.

#boom.


kpm ©


 

hmmmm.

ps: the ACC cunts declined my request.

again.

so its back to the drawing board.

to reassess shit.

fuck them.


kpm ©


 

how u like them apples ….

a capital A. for Arrogance (which is actually dripping from the pores of NZ atm).

after waiting over 2 years & multiple requests to see a specific type of psychologist through ACC & then Me finally finding & engaging with one – the cunts send Me a letter to say they have found a psychologist & have approved planning sessions & how important it is for me to feel supported in my motherfucking wellness, ‘please do not miss your appointment & if we can help further, don’t hesitate to contact us’.
#getfuckedcunts

i fucken hate bureaucracy.

*breathing out … & letting it go grrrrr*


kpm ©


 

notes to self:

i can honestly say, i bust my ass to be alright. every-single-day.

i do what i need to. what i don’t want to. what i know is good for me.

& it takes a physical & emotional toll. but im learning … slowly but surely, but i am progressing.

.

i got my (hopefully) final ACC appointment re income. if you’ve been around for the fuckery that is my barely existing income, then you’ll know that any income i can get, that is more than $40-50 per week, is awesome.

this last round has taken nearly 2 years. the wheels of bureaucracy are slow moving assholes, thats for sure.

anyway, i’ll be ok with this next appointment. its not till september so i’ve got time to prep.

again.

in amongst all this i also Finally got a list of potential psychologists that can do another round of EMDR with me, with a view to getting my ass more mobile – figuratively and literally.

well that was the plan anyways.

so i emailed the potentials.

8 of them in total.

out of the 8, 7 are ‘unavailable’ for reasons varying from, unqualified, unavailable, unwilling & long ass waiting lists. 1 i haven’t heard from yet.

while slightly disappointing, i was more struck by the lack of support that there is available in this country, for peeps like me. i’m sure its the same worldwide??? !!! but for here, is so severely lacking it left me wondering what the fuck would i have done if i was actually in crisis mode?

over the past couple months there’s been stories told of people committing suicide for lack of intervention, people that have been so desperate that despite trying to commit suicide and failing, they were still discharged the following day. the follow up is lame and the longterm support is just as fucking lame.

it also left me wondering if ‘they’ actually want us dead and gone so they dont have to deal with us or pay out.

guess what: i dont think i’m wrong.


kpm ©


 

Image

update: the occupational assessor person slash meeting.

she wasn’t quite what i expected and that was good.

but the point of this update is to brag about how fucken awesome i did prior too, throughout and after the assessment.

back story: cos i don’t think i’ve given an explanation …

AC fucken C’s process includes an occupational assessment. long story short: if i went back to work tomorrow, what kind of job could i do.

no where in that story is there room for the fact that i can’t leave the house with the ease i use too, can’t drive, can’t do people with ease, don’t do talking or social situations, can’t do bright lights or loud noises … oh, or have pts(d) … the ‘injury’ that they cover for.

ffs.

so, after being contacted by this woman a couple of weeks ago, freaking out and then getting my head round it all, i emailed her, let her know my situation and we arranged for her to come to me. i also arranged that any long winded questions be done by email so that i have time to answer without it being to taxing on me feng shui.

she was obliging and understanding.

so when she came, which was yesterday, our ‘appointment’ was 30 minutes long instead of the possible 2 hours long. she was quick and precise and exactly what i was able to handle.

prior to her coming here on the day, i did nice calming shit … good coffee, relaxing music … and made sure i was comfortable in every way. i asked the partner to stay home so he could just be around if i needed him, not in the meeting itself. and he did.

a half hour before she got here i could feel the anxiety building, so i swapped out the music for something more ‘lively’ lol, and got all the things that i would usually take with me in the car. i had my orange, and antihistamines, water, music, ear plugs, head phones, anti anxiety meds … i made sure i sat on the floor in ‘my spot’ and had the fan going.

i wasn’t overly pleasant but i wasn’t rude lol, so that was a win … for her ;)

after the meeting was done, i felt physically exhausted but i knew i was alright. i made sure i did something nice for me (chocolate lol) and took it easy for the rest of the afternoon.

and it all worked.

i was fucken stoked!

i was proud of me :)

if i can replicate this process for other appointments, engagements, meetings etc, the world is my oyster! lol … okay, slow down there champ … lol

yah get my drift though.

it feels like progress. huge progress. and i am good with that!


kpm ©


 

Image

oh, he was a cunt of a day … until he wasn’t:

0830 hours: thought – ‘lets get on to the ACC cunts as early as possible and get it over and fucking done with’

0845 hours: action – strong coffee; breakfast made; background – soothing, mindful music (my styles of course)

0920 hours: thought – ‘should probably ring now in case there are long waits ‘on hold’

0921 hours: action – dials ACC.

0935 hours: still on hold, sipping coffee peacefully

0945 hours: still on hold, breakfast finished

0959 hours: still on hold, coffee going cold.

Hangs up and redials.

1005 hours: action – rings ACC cunts, placed on hold.

1015 hours: call centre answers.

‘I’d like to speak to A. I’ve been waiting nearly 2 weeks for her to return my call regarding my claim’

Answer: ‘Let me put you through’

Me: under my breath – ’bout fucking time’.

As ACC twat picked up at the other end, this started a chain of events that reduced Me to tears, then rage, then more tears, then more rage and then tears.

On the verge of giving up, as they had told Me my claim was to be ‘tested for eligibility’ even though it has been sitting with them for nearly a year – I think I sobbed all my snot and tears out and was teetering in between rage and a feeling of necessity to get this sorted.

In amongst all of this I had messaged a friend of mine who has been battling ACC for nearly 6 years after her son was born with CP due to a medical ‘misadventure’. Yep that’s, 6 fucking years, and they still haven’t had any cover from ACC. Anyway, she gave me the name of the lawyer she uses, the one I rang … and told me to not give up and remain positive.

That was enough to turn my rather dwindling feng shui into a grit I haven’t felt in a long time.

Fuck them. Fuck their bureaucratic soul-less bullshit!

It was time to fuck shit up!

So …

I rang the lawyer.

I hadn’t wanted too, partially cos I don’t have the money for a fucking lawyer and partially because my energy for this sort of shit is way under threshold.

I gave the lawyer a 15 minute rundown, which would usually cost a sweet 500 hundy plus, but was done for free as an ‘advice’ session.

He was precise and clipped and let me know what I needed to do, which included emailing the ACC cunts, not speaking on the phone with them, so I could keep a paper trail … and quoting the magic words “It is my intention to lodge a Review for Unreasonable Delay and Not Responding In A Timely Manner”. Apparently those few magic words light a fire under their bureaucratical assholes because the paperwork and time involved is phenomenal and not what they like to do.

So I dropped the email in their inbox at 1325 hours and then had another tear fit … my eyeballs looked like 2 uncooked souffles … not cool.

I felt completely and utterly drained.

A friend messaged me soon after and asked if I wanted to come and have a coffee with her. This would usually send me into an anxiety frenzy but I knew I needed this. She is a beautiful soul and I needed some goodness. So with puffy red eyes and in the exact attire I had been in all morning (sweat and all), I found the car keys – yes … pause for effect lol – and I drove my ass to her house.

Oh my fuck.

Anxiety, panic, headache, dizzy, puff ball and all and I got there in one mother fucking piece!!!!

I had an awesome time … for a few hours actually. I had at least a dozen waves of panic which peaked and subsided. I was holding on to the fact that she’d call me an ambulance if I keeled over lol.

We talked and laughed and caught up and have I said it was fucking amazing!!! Exactly what I needed.

In all that … I remembered what friendship felt like … what positivity felt like, that exuded from those gangtress peeps that I know. She topped up my energy tank.

I drove home and collapsed in a happy but panic fucked heap on the floor and I’ve only just gotten back up at 2054 hours.

I’ve breathed and breathed deep. I’ve medicated and am listening to soothing music.

I survived. I loved. I cried. I raged. I laughed.

I survived.

That was the cunt of the day that turned into the best of days.

Love and mother fucking light to Me!


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

the reply:

“i have recieved your academic records.

i will proceed from here.”

****

Brilliant!

That sounds great!

Sounds like a smart move!

That also sounds like what you said at the end of your hour long phone call where you tried to tell Me it was probably ‘better for Me’ to go and get government assistance because this whole process is going to take ‘quite awhile’

****

well

thank

the

gods

you’re

on

it

now

ay

*employing extremely sarcastic tone*


kpm ©


to whom shall i send it

said Me,

to the twat

from

the entity

that likes

to make life

fucking

difficult.


kpm ©


 

done and done

I had my big ass assessment this morning … holy hell, what a mission. I was nervous … so nervous, my tummy has been in knots for days.

But now its over, thank fuck!

Aside from the obvious, which I survived to tell the tale, I gleaned a few tidbits I am ruminating on.

  1. Our health, particularly our mental health, system, is fucked. As per usual, my descriptions are ‘layman-womans’ terms. Now this news is nothing new; however today I got another awakening to just how stitched up everything is. After wading my nervous, semi sedated self through the myriad of questions relating to ‘permanent impairment’, I discovered that our health system rates permanent impairment in levels. Under 30% permanent impairment means – whilst you may not be able to hold down a job, or drive, or socialise, or talk on the phone, or be alone, or leave the house – if you are not in an institution and on medication, you are fine. Another words, 30% is the cap before they haul you off to the nut house and jab you with drool inducing meds. As this reality dawned on me during the assessment, 2 things happened.
  2. I became very aware that I didn’t want to rate over 30%.
  3. I became very aware that the likely-hood of receiving anymore than $35 a week for ‘permanent impairment’ was nil.
  4. Which brings me back to point 1.

I left that office slightly grateful that I hadn’t been institutionalised at any time. It would have killed me if I had. I shit you not. Me – Caged? Fuck No. It can’t happen.

But I was also very aware that my dance with ACC is grinding to a rather unproductive halt. It has been an exercise in asserting and flexing my rights, for sure. As far as having a productive outcome … well, apparently I am entitled to a life times worth of counselling slash psychologist intervention. Oh and mind bending medication if I so wish to be mind bent.

What struck me whilst answering all those rather intrusive questions, was that interacting with ‘the health system’ makes me feel more unhealthy. How is that possible? I’m unsure. Maybe because with every question about concentration or socialisation, I am trying to figure out what is deemed as normal. No I don’t interact with many people. But on a whole I don’t find people very interact-able. When I tried to explain this, I actually ended up sounding reasonably mad – even to myself lol.

You see (and I’ve talked about this before), when I go somewhere – meet people -just enter a place really – theres a shit tonne of things that happen. I was trying to relay this reality today.

When I arrived for my appointment, this is what I noted:

  • There are two large slow moving sliding glass doors to get into before you enter.
  • Not an easy exit.
  • 2 ladies sat at the front desk.
  • Mellow, low, horrid music in the background. It’s source was in the corner of the foyer.
  • 1st woman recked of cheap perfume.
  • 2nd was more interested in her lunch. It was 8.50am.
  • The lights were seedy. Lots of them. Meaning it was bright.
  • No open windows.
  • 1 door open, to files room, to the left of me.
  • Waiting room – large, hospital set up.
  • 2 large ugly pictures on far wall.
  • 2 framed ‘signs’. 1 about phones and photos.
  • 1 large ugly picture behind me.
  • toy box to the right in the corner.
  • water cooler far left.
  • it smelt dusty but cleaned.

And thats not the office. And this is me on an unobservant day.

So hows my concentration?

I don’t know how to answer that.

What I know is, it’s all fucking tiring.

Anyways … I am here … I survived. I still hate the system and I’m still unsocial lol.

On a lighter and nicer note: We are now waiting for the impending birth of moko #5 :)

My partners daughter went into labour this morning and this is her first baby. If she’s anything like her mother, her labour and birth should be quite short. But bubbys have a way of doing what they please :) It was moko #4s 3rd birthday yesterday, so we will end up with 2 birthdays close together which is kinda cool.

Right, I’m going to find some chocolate and make a cup of tea.


kpm ©


 

to lawyer or not to lawyer, this is the question

I’ve been pondering on my post assessment, pre assessment assessment (good lord), which is to be done at the end of August. I’m going to need truck loads of patience for that one …

But some well meaning bunny has advised I hire an ‘Accident Compensation Corporation Lawyer’; yes, there is such a thing. These dudes are supposed to get you the best deal or financial arrangement. You see, it turns out the ACC bastards could be up for back paying a hefty sum of dosh out to Me. Partially due to all their fuck ups, and partially due to more of their fuck ups. In a nutshell; because I have been on their books, with an accepted claim, since the early 90s, there should have been a 5 yearly assessment, like the one they’ll do in August. At these assessments, they gauge the money side of things (as in, how much to chop your compensation by) by figuring out your ‘impairment levels’. It’s at these assessments, they also figure out if there is any significant changes.

My last assessment was in 2000 and fucken 4.

I was declining rapidly by 2009; the year when the next assessment was due. If ACC, coulda shoulda woulda, done that assessment, it would be quite plausible that I wouldn’t have been rocking backwards and forwards in the corner of my house by 2012.

By the time ACC had ‘responded’, it was 2014 and I was well and truly fucked by that stage. And they still fucked up the treatment and completely ignored the compensation side of things … hence living on $35 for god knows how many years.

When the psychologist was abruptly cut off, and I was a little more ‘myself’, I laid a big ass complaint with the ACC fuckers. It was a long time coming … and it was more about ‘responding’ for Me. It wasn’t a polite complaint … it read pretty much like I write Here. But it did the trick.

However … nearly a whole fucken year later … I am still waiting. But, the end is in sight … sort of.

So, why the lawyer? Apparently they are able to do what they do and wrangle every last cent of what I’m entitled too, out of ACC. However … they come at a price … of course. It’s usually 20% of whatever I may get as compensation. And not being a mathematician at all, 20% sounds like a fucken lot to someone who gets $35 a week!!

But this isn’t what I’m really having issues with.

For Me, it seems like someone else coming along, right at the end, on a shiny little white lawyer-y horse; to wave a little wand to get results.

I fought this battle.

I fought fucken long and fucken hard. And I’m still fighting.

Do I want to pay some cunt 20% of a sum of money (that isn’t guaranteed yet) for doing 5 minutes of work? Not really.

I think I got most of what I needed when ACC rang and apologised for their giant fuck up. To have that in writing would be even better, but a recording will suffice for now. I get another giant dose of what I need whilst listening to all the ACC twats tip toe round what they say to Me now; and I enjoy not responding to any of the; “We’re terribly sorry for ….. ” …. “Silence (from Me)” … its most satisfying :)

I guess my ‘pondering’ has more to do with …

Am I cutting off my foot to spite my leg? >> No, hang on … cutting off my finger to spite arm??  … fuck knows! Never liked that saying anyway! Makes No Sense!

Am I fucking it up for Myself … yeah, thats what I mean … Just to prove a point?

And even if I am, what have I got to lose?

Money? Reputation? A job? Nope, they’re all gone lol.

You know what … I think I may have just made my decision.

Fuck the lawyer and fuck ACC. I’ll see this bastard through on my own terms :)


kpm ©


 

you did what? … well that was fucking awesome! … good on yah!

Said No-one ever … well not today anyway … well alright, slightly over dramatised … said no-one today, that mattered anyway!

Why the tanty??

I had a gi-normous day today … profoundly difficult and profoundly victorious, in more than one way!

The long-awaited ACC assessment – that I laid a complaint about – that has taken approximately 3 years to get – that may see my $35 per week grow by … a little bit more, hopefully – Yeah … well that; I had that today.

I have been nervous as fuck about it for the past few days as I found out I had the appointment on Friday for today. Usually I’d kick up a stink about that, cos I need a hell of a lot longer to prep for shit like that … but cos I’d waited so long for it, I agreed to it … and have quietly prepared ever since.

I wasn’t going to write about it or talk about it with anyone … didn’t want to jinx the process ;)

But I prepped. Made sure the partner was available to take me … got my ‘kit’ ready … downloaded travel appropriate, distraction, ‘happy’ music and tried to relax. In between ‘quakes’ I tried to remember that this has been a long time coming and I wasn’t going to miss it … I’d ‘medicate’ if need be, just to get Me there.

I had about 3 hours sleep last night, but remained calm. And somewhere in between planning what to wear and finding at drink bottle at 4am, I had a thought ..

I’d been discussing with a fellow blogger, my dislike of the wind … earthquakes etc … that they were ‘unpredictable’. She said something interesting … to the effect … that a tree ‘bends’ with the wind, it doesn’t stay rigid. In all my planning for the unpredictable, I had severely taken the ‘joy’ out of everything … well was hard pressed to find any joy actually. Well as I was planning what to wear, I headed for the comfortable shit first … reason … less hassle. Then I found a dress I hadn’t worn in ages, and it made me smile. So I found my old leather jacket and my sneakers to wear with it … and I smiled again. I actually felt good. When I woke up at 8, after my hour’s nap lol … I looked outside and it was pissing down with rain, that I don’t mind, but it was also windy and fucking freezing! My lovely little dress was not going to cut it … at all. Fuck fuck fuckaroo … was the track I was heading down, cos my well thought out plans had been fucked up by nature … again … when I remembered the ‘wind’ analogy. So, moments later, whilst sitting on the toilet, I was trying to figure out how to ‘bend with the wind’, and enjoy it … fuck!

After my business, I headed back to the room where my lovely little dress was all laid out … put it away … and tried to find something else that would make me smile … and I did :) Another dress, not anything like the other, that I hadn’t worn in like, forever … then i found a top and some nice red stockings … matched them up with my leather jacket and sneakers … and wahlah!! I smiled … I had just learnt how to bend it like beckham instead of having a panic attack because my shit had been disturbed.

Hurdle 1, done!

I went about my morning routine … coffee … coffee … breakfast and … coffee; I did the shopping online to be delivered when we got home … and then lo and behold, Mr bursts out of the room, hollering “How much did you spend on shopping, I’ve only got $40 left … fuck it all” and proceeded to have a man-sized tantrum.

Now usually, at such a pivotal time and moment for Me, I’d freak, toss my cookies, cancel any appointments and have One Outs with big mouth. ‘Don’t you fucken talk to me like that’ … ‘I spent as much as we needed’ … ‘My spending is our fucken spending, don’t fucken forget that , cunt’ … ‘Where’d the rest of YOUR fucken money go then?? Oh that’s right, you didn’t pay Your fucken parking ticket, or Your doctors bill … both went to the fucken debt collectors and Yes that’s right, like I said last fucken week … If you don’t pay those bastards they will take what you owe out of your pay check!!’ … ‘Fucker’ …

But instead, feeling rather ‘bendy’ … I breathed … focussed on the fact that I needed to get to my appointment and this cunt was my ride … but like fuck was I going to be intimidated by a man size tantrum or engage in any kind of discussion re ‘missing’ money right … now. I needed to do ME. So I did the only rational thing I knew … and I ignored his funky ass.

I continued to get my shit together … I got in the car … turned on my music and sang as loudly and joyously as I fucking could … I took photos … I breathed some more … I sipped on my water … and I sang even louder.

I had given him previous instructions of which route to take to minimise stress, and he did. Good.

We got to the appointment early and Partner sat in the car … trying to sulk. I looked at him and said ‘I told you I need you to come in with me until I’m settled, then you can go’ … he reluctantly got out of the car and came in with me.

It was a Psychological Assessment … Impairment assessment thingy … I got to re-live my history of sexual assault as a child … with details … dates … positions … feelings … faces … Yeah … I got to re-live that shit again, because that’s how these cunts like to assess shit. It went on for nearly 4 fucking hours.

The Partner stayed for the first 10 minutes then left. Fine.

I did what I needed too.

I lined up the coasters on the table … I fiddled with the ornament in the middle of the table … I took off my shoes … moved my seat … turned off the down lights … announced that I’d be swearing liberally as that’s how I talk usually and trying to be polite only gives me a headache … The psychologist nodded his approval … not that I was looking or asking for it.

But that’s what I did. 4 hours later … I was fucked!!

When I left the office I felt like I had been run over by a bulldozer … my eyes were blurry, I was shaky and nearing tears. But I had expected that … and prepared … with chocolate chip cookies … which I ate all the way home … whilst listening to my music … again. I had one slight panic attack at the lights but had brought an ice pack for my face … that helped.

So while I was stoked to have ‘completed’ this mission with minimal ‘after effects’, sort of … I was waiting for a “How did you go dear?” … “Are you OK?” … “Do you want a cup of tea?” … something.

But I got nothing. Not a word. Not an encouragement. Not a fucking high-five … nuddah!

Usually I would be devastated but I think I’m too fucked to give 2 shits really … but it has fucked Me off … and it is something I’m going to address with his Royal Sulkiness before the week is out ….

After, I have taken care of Me.

After, I have High Fucking Fived my own shit.

After, I have bought myself a bitching coffee from the Cafe tomorrow.

After, I’ve finished listening too and posting all the songs that make me feel OK.

After, I have finished going on about it on My Blog.

After …. after, I have done right by ME.

Not cos no other cunt will … but in spite of it … and because …

I fucking deserve it … and I deserve an explanation.

I won’t be treated like that and let that shit slide. Not anymore!

—– The one compliment I did get today, which I took … was from the psychologist. As we were nearing the end of all this shit … He looks up, moves his glasses down his nose, and says with quite an interested and stern look … “How the fuck are you still ‘here’?   … You have a strength that is rare … do you know that?”

I cried.

Told him it is Stubbornness.

*(noting that he had dropped the F bomb … Yuss lol)


kpm ©


 

Image

the last one … apparently

Would have been nice to have a decent heads up … but oh well. Apparently todays session with the shrink (psychologist) was the last one. As it turns out, ACC don’t allocate so many sessions, they allocate a timeframe … and apparently that timeframe is up. Did they let me know … No. Did they let the shrink know … Possibly. Have they paid the shrink yet … No. Assholes.

But anyway, with that rant out-of-the-way…

I have to focus on what I have achieved so far:

  • That I can walk to the mail box by myself.
  • Into the back yard by myself.
  • That I can walk to the shop by myself.
  • The beach by myself.
  • I can walk without a stick.
  • I can walk without the breath pacer thingy.
  • I can ride in the car.
  • I can ride in the front seat of the car.
  • I can sleep without medication now.
  • I can sleep up to 9 hours some nights.
  • The nightmares have minimised.
  • I know how to breathe my way through things.
  • I have tools for panic attacks that aren’t medication.
  • I’m not afraid of my feelings.
  • I know how to ground myself.
  • I know what I need to do to get my senses ‘un-heightened’.
  • I can talk to a stranger.
  • I can enjoy things.
  • I smile at things.
  • I smile at me :)

And there’s more, that I’ll keep reminding myself of over the next few days, so as not to freak out, that my main source of therapy, back up, re-training, life line has now been terminated.

Breath ….


kpm ©


 

Image

complaint update: wins?

As I said previously, while these are partial victories … especially since it drained a shit tonne of energy from me … the battle with ACC continues … as @ august 23 2018!


So far I’ve had 3 responses to my complaints I laid.

Very pleasant responses I might add. 1 from the entity that is Accident Compensation Corporation, and 2 from The Health and Disability Commissioner.

None from the GP. And no ACC papers either I might add.

Contents of all emails … “We are so sorry that you feel the need to complain about our awesome services and we will be looking into the matter… soonish …. Your complaint has been forwarded to the appropriate Department …”

Ahh

Let the bureaucratic paper shuffling, finger-pointing and blame laying begin ;)


Jun 4, 2016:

And we have result number 1 …

image

Followed by (partial) result number 2 … the infamous ACC forms!

20160604_105040.jpg

A good day .. a good victory ;) Who said complaining doesn’t help ?? LOL


Jul 12, 2016:

So, I got a couple of email replies and about 5 phone calls in one week from the illustrious ACC. Amazing what a little complaining can do!

Step One – email the bastards – be concise and straight to the fucking point.

From: (ME) 
Sent: Friday, 27 May 2016 2:42 p.m.
To: Customerfeedback
 Subject: (ME)re Complaint
 Importance: High
 Sensitivity: Confidential

Kia Ora

Please find attached ACC709 form.

Claim Number: XXXXX.

Regards

(ME)

Step Two – wait patiently for their ‘nancy’ reply / ‘confirmation receipt’.

From: Complaints ACC 
Sent: Monday, 30 May 2016 4:26 p.m.
To: (ME) Subject: For the attention of (ME) Sensitivity: Confidential

Dear (ME),

Thank you for your email and ACC709 complaint form.

I am sorry to read of the concerns you have raised.

This email is to confirm receipt and to advise that your complaint will be referred to Management of the Independent Allowance Unit to respond to you accordingly and address the issues you have raised.

Please feel free to contact me if you wish to discuss this further.

Kind regards

MXXX

Step Three – wait patiently-er for, that’s right, AN APOLOGY!

Dear (ME),

In response to your email below, I approached Management of the Sensitive Claims Unit and also the Independence Allowance Unit to address your complaint.

It is my understanding that CXXX SXXX – Team Manager has been in contact with you directly and has apologised for the delays you incurred.  I see you have also been in contact with KXXX to discuss your application for a reassessment.

I hope this has been of assistance.

If you do have any further concerns relating to this matter please feel free to contact either CXXX or KXXX directly.

Thank you for your time,

Kind regards

MXXX

But wait, ‘incurred’??? I don’t think so lady … but any-who …

I took the apology. And the one they rang with … twice. I didn’t say a word in response. I didn’t say ‘oh that’s ok’ … or ‘oh that’s fine’ … or ‘well at least we’re moving forward now’. Hell No.

I took my apology with a cup of coffee and a deep sigh of satisfaction … silently. It was extremely nice hearing their discomfort on the other end of the phone.

:)

But I decided not to print off the email and frame it because apparently:

 

ACC Customer Resolutions – Operations Services

ACC cares about the environment – please don’t print this email unless it is really necessary. Thank you.

Shame they don’t care about their ‘customers’ in the same way.

~ Watch this space for more riveting ACC updates ;)


kpm ©


 

Image

sensitive claims debacle

Found these in my troll through my posts. It was a super stressful time and I’d just like to say I’m still fucken waiting for ACC to finish processing the next part of my claim.

Yes, still waiting as @ february 2019.

But I’m here. Trying to be patient. On a cool $45 per week. Thats right folks, its gone up by $10.

Somedays it completely fucks Me that my income is not really an income and some overpaid cunt sitting in an office is still processing my shit so I can get an actual income.

And I wait.


Accident Compensation Corporation

I have had a Sensitive Claim with this corporation since the early 90s.

Every 5 years it ‘was’ their policy to send Sensitive Claims to be ‘reviewed’. This involved assessment through impairment questions given by a psychologist. All questions were generalized, distasteful and reasonably distressing. But it also meant that any ‘incidents’ or issues were recorded and noted and could be dealt with immediately.

From ACCs end, the 5-year review had more to do with the level of compensation you received due to your permanent impairment score, rather than their interest in your general well-being.

In the early 2000s the ‘reviewer’ changed from a psychologist to an ACC accredited GP.

I had my last recorded assessment in 2004. At this time, I was noted as being in the lowest impairment bracket, thus receiving the lowest percentage of compensation.

I was not recalled for any other assessments or reassessments.

In 2008 my physical health started to decline; by 2011 I was medically discharged from my place of employment. In 2014 I was accurately diagnosed with PTSD. By this time, I was chronic and unable to leave the house.

I contacted ACC for entitled counselling in approximately 2012, and accessed this thereafter. I have been battling with them regarding diagnosis, treatment and compensation since then.

This has included ‘waiting times’ of years rather than months or weeks.

It includes having to pay for treatment that hasn’t work out of funds that are non-existent.

It includes being ‘actively ignored’.

According to ACCs process (which has never officially changed), I should have been reassessed in 2009 and my ‘condition’ should also have been picked up at that stage. Treatment should have begun then.

My concern is that ACC has changed its ‘goal posts’ without informing the client. Those changes leave its clients hindered and at a disadvantage and furthered impaired in the process.

Not only do I believe this to be unfair, I believe it is a breach of their Duty of Care.


General Practitioners NZ.

I had a GP that was awesome. She left her practice about 10 years ago. By default, my GP became another one that was in the same Medical Centre as her.

To find a new GP is near impossible. The waiting lists for ‘new intakes’ are years long and the ‘on call’ or emergency ones are quick and nasty.

I have my name down for a new GP, and have been waiting for a place with him for nearly 5 years.

So I remain with the GP I have.

He is great when it comes to writing prescriptions and a friendly chat.

As for timeframes and getting things done, not so much.

As far as accurate diagnosis; not so much.

I have been prescribed a string of medications for depression, anxiety, vertigo, chronic depression, insomnia, smoking, allergies and more depression.

In hindsight, they’ve all been inaccurate scripts for inaccurate illnesses.

My first and major red flag came when I was given sleeping pills (benzodiazepines) for insomnia, vertigo and depression; along with a few other tid bits. They should have been temporary, but were prescribed repeatedly for years.

Until I googled them one day and found out that this particular strain of sleeping pill should only be prescribed temporarily (not longer than 6 months) and exasperated anxiety.

When I confronted my GP, he said “You wanted them”.

What I actually wanted was help.

The second red flag came when ACC requested my file. After signing the papers, it took just over 18 months for the Medical Centre to send the file to ACC.

This held up accurate diagnosis and accurate treatment.

ACC were just as slow. It took them 12 months to let me know, after I asked, (and at that stage it was near impossible for me to talk on the phone to anyone) what the hold up was.

And now I wait for forms to be filled out by the same GP, so ACC can LOOK at reassessing my Independence Allowance. I have been waiting close to 2 months for those forms now. I have requested that they be returned so I can take them to the emergency GP and have them signed, and was told it was in my best interests to wait.

“The profession of medicine has a duty to maintain and improve the health and wellbeing of the people, and to reduce the impact of disease. Its knowledge and consciousness must be directed to these ends. The medical profession has a social contract with its community. In return for the trust patients and the community place in doctors, ethical codes are produced to guide the profession and protect patients.

  • Notes: “Doctors should ensure that information is recorded in an accurate and timely manner. “
  • Notes: “When requested or when need is apparent, doctors should provide patients with information required to enable them to receive benefits to which they may be entitled. “

https://www.nzma.org.nz/publications/code-of-ethics

My concern is how long does a GP believe is a ‘timely manner’ and what do they deem to be accurate? Is 18 months timely? Or even 2 months? Are 2 misdiagnosis accurate enough, or does it take 3 or 4?

It’s a frustrating situation to be in and I know I am not alone.

There is a great deal of faith put in a GP and for good reason. So when they don’t abide their own Code of Ethics what is a patient supposed to do?

Go to ‘The Health and Disability Commission’ apparently.

But similar to the ACC review board, the irony is painfully clear.

If you are a client of ACCs and require a GPs assistance regularly, then you are probably unwell, and vulnerable.

Why is that so difficult for these people to understand?


I have been bitching on about ACC and my GP for ages … trying to get results the most pleasant way possible.

Well, I’ve had enough … and I’ve been waiting for a while for my ‘had enough’ button to kick in … its been a bit slow; or is it disabled? …  in recent years.

Anyway, I rang the Doc again this morning … and got the same glib but apologetic reply … ‘he hasn’t finished them … it’s in your best interests to wait … sorry … ‘.

And finally … yes finally …

I said, “Actually it’s not in my best interests to wait, and quite frankly the waiting and the excuses are ridiculous. I would like the details of your formal complaint process. That complaint will also be forwarded on to The Health and Disability Commissioner.”

Well, she jumped to it.

To be fair, the reception ladies have been great, they’ve tried, well beyond their job description, to get my forms filled in and returned. God bless their sweetness lol.

So, I’ve been sitting here since 9am and I’ve just finished, at 3pm, sending off 3 formal complaints. One to the Health Centre where my doc is situated. One to The Health and Disability Commissioner. And one to good old Accident Compensation Corporation.

I may get an apology, I may not.

I may get my forms back, I probably may not.

I will continue to run with the alternative way to skin the cat since the back up forms have finally arrived!

But the satisfaction of tying them all up in bureaucratic paper work and sifting bullshit for at least 6 months … well that is reward enough for me at this stage …

mwahahahahaha ;)


kpm ©


 

Image

doctor and dickheads and dealing with it : my way

So, awhile ago, I had a huge rant/vent re: ACC and my doctor … amongst other rants lol …

And I’ve been brewing on the ‘where to now’ bullshit.

And Nan did always say there was more than one way to skin a cat .. she just didn’t tell me how .. but, I think that was her way of getting us to ‘think outside the box’ … come up with alternative solutions.

In keeping with this whole thought train …

I was at a Hui (meeting/gathering) a few years ago … one of those ‘this is going to change the way I think’ sort of gatherings.

The jist of it all was how best to respond to The Crown in relation to all their past, current and continued breaches of Te Tiriti O Waitangi and the Indigenous in Aotearoa (New Zealand). Te Tiriti O Waitangi is our founding document in New Zealand … It’s why any and all immigrant / European peoples were able to settle here. It was also supposed to be a partnership between The Crown and the Indigenous, to enable them to reside here, and us to retain autonomy. The Crowns first breach came within months of signing and we, Tangata Whenua (indigenous/people of the land), have been talking, debating, strategizing, fighting … ever since. Each generation has done their piece … added to the history of reconciliation, reparation, justice and moving on. The Crown however, jumped from the discussions straight to the ‘moving on’ bit … and their idea of moving on entails the Indigenous shutting their mouths and getting on with being imprisoned, living in an impoverished state … generally being at the bottom of the barrel.

Anyway, at this Hui it was discussed that we had done and tried virtually everything short of revolution by violence. And while there were many that still thought this to be the only option; there was another voice that got heard that day. An old guy .. who’d obviously lived a long, enlightened life.

He started talking about the way we had always done things … the things we had done so far. That we, too, were skipping a step. He believed that our tipuna (ancestors) had carried an enormous amount of grief over the rape and pillage that had been done to us as a people and the land, that we were entrusted to care for.

He believed we had already done everything that we needed to, in response to the Crowns breaches and continued atrocities. And that the issue or the problem, didn’t lie with Us.

He said … that the issue was who we were dealing with; their lack of mana (dignity); that they continuously move the goal posts, because that is their nature. They had and have no intention of being honourable and trustworthy. Of doing the right thing. We gave them the benefit of the doubt and it cost us generations of lives and livelihood. But history should tell US that their core intentions have never changed. Colonisation was always their intention, not partnership.

None of this was said in malice, which I thought was astonishing. But in closing he said, well asked … what are we going to do differently?

By that he meant, we had tried it The Crowns way … we had let them define the boundaries in which we respond. That we needed to stop doing that and find a way to respond that is ON OUR TERMS and is in the best interests of US.

So when we marched to Parliament, this time, we did it in silence, with the intention of taking our tipunas maemae (grief) and laying it where it belonged … returning it to the abusers so to speak . Along with legislation that has been breached since 1840.

This was the last land march/protest I did. It was most profound and extremely hard to explain. We could feel the weight of sadness move with us; what should have taken about 20 minutes to walk, took close to 2 hours. But it didn’t feel like it. Everything went quiet … and we were in the city … all the traffic went silent; even the birds went silent. All you could hear was us walking. And the gentle weeping from the old people who were with us.

And while the mainstream media down played the whole thing, as they do .. It was one of the most memorable and life changing land marches I’ve ever done. Because our intention was different than other times. We got to respond as we needed to, not how They wanted us too.

So, in light of this … I realised that my venting or responding to ACC / the Doctor, has always been within their guidelines … by their rules. And I am getting nowhere fast! Because that is how they do things. They aren’t interested in my well-being, they are interested in only themselves. In remembering this … I can put together my response, my way. To benefit me.

So, I am currently writing up 2 ‘complaints’ … or list of breaches; by ACC and the Doctor. When I am done, these will go to this website:

http://citizensgovernmentcorruptionwatchdogcommission.yolasite.com

  1. Because I need to vent
  2. I need to be heard
  3. I need the information recorded

Thereafter, I gather up my forms from the Doctor, as they are. I take them to another doctor and have the bastards filled in … as per ACC requirement.

When I’ve done that, I make copies of all of it and send off the partially filled in forms and the new ones, to ACC.

The doctor won’t look good; the date stamp on the first form will get me back paid till then and ACC can review the shit out both sets of forms! Nan was right: there is more than one way to skin a cat ;)

And then, for now, I will let it go.

I don’t want to spend all my precious, sometimes rather depleted, time and energy on those assholes.

I want to enjoy the sunshine and wind; stack wood; write my blog; listen to beautiful music … and when my ass is not so broken …. DANCE :)

xo



kpm ©