My last assessor (2018) wrote a work of fiction down when they came into my home to assess me. I’m glad my mother was there, as I genuinely may have wondered if I’d got crazy, I can’t overstate how disorientating it is to be gaslit by someone who is supposed to be a professional. She awarded me no points. Gave no indication she’d even bothered to read the included medical professional reports.
My award was stopped. It was a very dark year waiting for the tribunal.
They, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more wonderful. One of the judges was clearly disgusted in my behalf, and the DWP didn’t even bother to send a representative.
I now have indefinite awards of enhanced care and standard mobility, no more worrying about assessments for me.
But I can’t help worrying about all of those who may not have been lucky enough to have the support that I did. Who may have ended up in debt trying to survive, or not be able to comprehend the reams of paper work and forms needed.
I have no resentment towards you as a person, but I think your job is cruel and pointless. It costs more than it will ever save, with an 80% turnover rate, how could it ever be described as efficient or successful. It’s may not be intentional, but it’s almost perfectly designed to make the weakest, sickest and most isolated in our society give up.