When
Steven got the letter from war pensions, I had never heard of post traumatic
Stress disorder. Although I had felt from the outset what ever was wrong with
Steven stemmed from his posting to Northern Ireland. I started reading about
ptsd, the more I read the more convinced I was there was a link to the onset of
Stevens illness. As a matter of interest more so than relevance, did you know
they used chlorpromazine on prisoners of war as a truth drug? This could explain
why Steven was telling people things he now regrets, which were part of his
paranoid thoughts most of which were not true or reality about himself. This
still has an effect on him, when he thinks of the things he had told people.
I
was reading one of the national papers one day and noticed an article in there,
mentioning that a solicitor had served thirty writs to government on the behalf
of service men who claimed they were suffering from PTSD. At this time the only
benefits Steven was in receipt of was a small services pension and incapacity
benefit. I spoke to Steven about this and asked him if he would like to consult
a solicitor. This happened before he became really ill, before the break up with
Jenny. I took the news clipping with me and went with Steven. The outcome of
this was we did not have enough evidence.
A
few months after was when Steven attempted to come off the meds. Unbeknown to me
Steven was receiving appeals forms from war pension, each time throwing it into
the bin. It was about a year later I discovered this and was convinced there was
a link to Steven and PTSD. One day I decided to write the story out, from start
to present. I wrote eight A4 pages and sent it off for an appeal. There was no
way Steven could have done this for himself the way he was.
A
few years went by, when I noticed another news item in our local newspaper,
about a lad who had suffered much the same as Steven through PTSD in the
services. He also ended up with a diagnosis of schizophrenia. It stated that
their were solicitors dealing with it. This time along with a thousand other
servicemen. I contacted the local newspaper to find out if they knew who the
solicitors were. They did not, but said it came from a national news item, but
did not know the source. One by one I contacted all the national newspapers and
eventually tracked down the solicitors firm dealing with this, they were based
in Manchester. With Stevens help I wrote out the story and registered a claim
with them. March 2003 was the launch of a big court case with over two thousand
servicemen.
I
contacted the local newspaper about this, I gave an anonymous statement about
what had happened to Steven any identity of Steven was not divulged. It made
front page news. It was more about making the public aware of what servicemen
have been through and how their mental health is effected. I did not want any
publicity or attention drawn to Steven. As a result of this Steven was contacted
by a x servicemen's support group. Steven would not go, because it was based on
military property. I will always remember the man who came to see Steven, he
also suffered from PTSD. What had happened to him, happened nineteen years
before. I remember when he left he was a bit apprehensive about walking down the
road to his car. Where we live there is only eight house, a narrow road lined
with trees and not very well lit. I offered to stand in the door way until he
reached his car at the bottom of the road. As I watched him, every few steps he
took, he kept looking behind him as if he was expecting something to happen to
him. Seeing this made me even more convinced about the onset of Stevens
Symptoms.
5
years after I had sent the appeal statements to war pensions, a letter arrived.
Stating that Stevens services in the armed forces was a contributory factor to
his disability. Accepting liability. Steven is now in receipt of a war pension.
Not mega bucks but a lot better than he was receiving before. This is considered
as a compensation payment. Often Steven has said he would rather have no money
and be well, something I very much support.
While
I was pestering to be listened to, I was informed of a course taking place by
one of the MH workers. This was a city & Guilds Course Level 3 in
Community Mental Health Care. I thought about this, then it crossed my mind. If
I got a qualification maybe I would be listened to then. If I failed then it
would not matter because my job did not depend upon it. I had nothing to lose. I
managed to get the funding and started the course which was eighteen months
long. It was not easy, all I knew was what I had learnt through researching on
the internet. The other students were professionals already working in the
system. Part way through I almost dropped out. I started hearing all the
negative comments about carer's. I would protest about this and it was said
"we don't mean you" why I was a carer? They were not referring to Mrs
Jones but carer's. In the end I carried on and finished the course. I
took the exam and was convinced I would not pass. After all I am just a carer,
what do I know. To my surprised I passed, I could have punched the air. This was
a triumph for me and perhaps for other carer's as well. Just like is said "
Experts By Experience". All I know is I would not want to live
through my experience again.
I have written this story for
three reasons.
1)
To help identify the possible consequence of not working with or
listening to families.
2)
Challenging the Stigma that is attached to carers, we are individuals.
3)
To give an understanding of what it is like for families trying to
support their relative. Support and
empathy is needed for such families, not sympathy and blame.
Does my son have insight? Words
of a Christmas card he sent to me.
A mum is someone who you know,
is there throughout the year.
Someone who will listen, with a
sympathetic ear.
A mum is someone who will help
to cheer you when you’re low.
She’ll always have a warming
hug, however old you grow.
A mum is someone who is wise,
with knowledge vast to share.
Her wish to always fill your
world with tender loving care.
A mum’s someone to treasure,
for she’s worth her weight in gold.
And you mum grow more precious
as the months and years unfold.
For you’ve been a mum so
special, a friend companion too.
And it’s such a lovely
feeling, to have a mum like you.
I shed a few tears when I read
this, or am I just being soppy?
Benefits page