You may remember that two weeks ago we left our intrepid heroine (that would be me) stressing about the paperwork to get a disabled parking permit.
I got the updated medical information in with some help from Social Services at the Town Hall. We went along with 60 pages of photocopies only to find that we’d left the letter with the case number behind and the social worker would have to unstaple all the documents and scan them in. Daft when I had the scans on my hard drive. So we came home and Carlos went back with a pen drive. Sorted, or so we thought.
Then I got an official letter. My application has been denied because my degree of disability hasn’t been evaluated.
I have one leg, but they can’t say whether I should have a parking permit without an official medical evaluation. I have great sympathy for people with invisible disabilities, but surely in my case it’s as plain as the gaping hole below my stump? It wouldn’t even cost them anything.
I’m not even angry. I can’t stop laughing because it’s so utterly ridiculous.
All this is paperwork with the Canarian government. I have separate paperwork coming up with the national government because I have been on sick pay for almost a year. After a year a tribunal will meet to decide whether a) they send me back to work, b) they delay for another six months or c) I get a disability pension. I think a) is really unlikely since the surgical scar still hasn’t healed (due to radiotherapy and chemotherapy) , and you know, the whole missing leg thing. But after having my parking permit denied I’m a bit twitchy.
