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Cancer At 25- Then UC Humiliation

October 31, 2018

In November 2016, I’d moved 500 miles from my hometown of Inverness in Scotland to Islington, in London. I was 25, working long hours as a bar manager and had the promise of an exciting future ahead of me. It was then I was diagnosed with a brain tumour.

It’s true that there’s no good time to be diagnosed with cancer, but when you’re in your 20s, living far away from home with hardly any savings, there’s so much more than just your health to worry about. I had to give up my job and my treatment was so intense that the only option was to go back home, so that my mum and dad could look after me.

It was a huge blow and the only thing that got me through was regularly reminding myself I still had my whole future to come. I was desperate to get my life back on track after my recovery and pick up where I’d left things in London; I looked forward to surrounding myself with friends and living the life of a normal twentysomething. Refusing to cut ties, and realising I needed to make plans to move forward with my life and find my new normal, I decided to carry on renting my room in Islington in order to make this happen. I endured months of gruelling surgery and radiotherapy. This zapped me of my energy, while my small savings were also poured into keeping my room. I couldn’t bear to let cancer strip me of my independence and everything I’d worked for.

But I knew I couldn’t keep going without any income and just a couple of weeks after my brain surgery, still struggling with fatigue and other side effects, I went to the jobcentre to apply for universal credit. I desperately needed some help, after everything I’d been through. But instead of a saving grace, I was faced with another ordeal as I had to sit in front of a computer for an exhausting six hours to fill in the painstakingly long application form. I couldn’t believe this was the process for people, like me, who had been forced to leave jobs they loved because of ill health and were just trying to get by. Worse still, because I registered at the jobcentre in Scotland, when I did eventually move back to London, I couldn’t change my home and benefits to there.

A further insult was that, because I was under 26, I wasn’t termed an adult, so I was entitled to even less. This was despite the fact that I left home at 19 and have been independent since then. The whole thing was humiliating.

People on the universal credit helpline weren’t any better. They dismissed my problems and told me I should go back home to Scotland. I felt real pressure to do this, but there’s nothing really left for me there. I don’t know many people there any more, it would just be me, mum and dad – and I’m no longer allowed to drive, which is a real disadvantage in a rural place like Inverness. I love being independent but cancer stole that and universal credit made it even worse. I feel like I’ve been penalised for having cancer and I just want to get my life back. Universal credit was the worst part. I could deal with the cancer and the treatment, but not universal credit.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. October 31, 2018 1:33 pm

    Just the tip of the Cancer iceberg.

    My Dad died of (probably) cancer a month ago in a Marie Curie Hospice.
    (I’m still trying to uncover what actually went on)

    Marie Curie is one of those fake ‘charities’ that’s mostly government funded –
    NHS – £43,100,00.00

    Their Benefits ‘Advice’ is just government assisting, Vulnerable Adult Abusing, Fraud based, Course of Justice Perverting BS –

    They call themselves “Marie Curie” but they happily defraud their patients with Fake PSEUDOSCIENCE BS –

    Marie Curie happily Blag Kickback Bribes from Commercial Crematoria –

    Worst (so far) –
    Marie Curie give their victims (patients) details to Commercial Law Firms –

    I’m still only just finding out about this but…

    One of the ‘Hearse Chasing’ (Hard-Sell) Vultures turned up at my Dads sheltered housing a week before he went into their Marie Curie hospice to die, and managed to get him to re-do his will. (he’s been writing wills for decades).

    Obviously a ‘Cold Call’ because the only ‘Witness’ (to sign the will) the criminal could find was his next door neighbour.

    So now those fraudsters are claiming to be his ‘lawyers’.

    The new will names somebody else (not me) as his ‘next of kin’ and ‘executors’ (a scumbag retired NHS GP, and two other people I’ve never even heard of, not even an email address).

    I didn’t get any info about my Dad at all from the filth at Marie Curie. They claim that it’s because I’m “not his next of kin”.

    I asked the Police and two Coroners for a Post-Mortem but the bent lowlife just ignored it. And the ‘Executors’ went ahead with a full-on funeral (without me) , completely ignoring my Dads wishes and all of my objections.

    Surprise Surprise the undertakers and Crematoria are the same criminal vermin bribing Marie Curie. (guess who’s paying for all of that fraud £££££). And the new will gives £1000 to the scumbag retired NHS GP!.. ker-fu*king-ching)

    Oh and the criminal filth still haven’t even told me Where the F*CK my Dads’ ashes are.

    Don’t get cancer in this sh*thole of a country.

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