Even good stress is stressful

Things are starting to happen towards getting us moved this summer. We need a disabled friendly flat. I have ME, my husband has arthritis. Even the dog, who is about 13 years old, struggles mightily with the 3 steps from out door up to ground level. I think her medication will need to be increased when she next sees the vet.

We started making a list of requirements for a place for us to live. So many, and it's going to be tough to find all of them along with "allows dogs". Then we started making a list of things that have to be done to prepare.

This is all good stuff, and I like to talk about it, but it uses spoons, and it's still stressful.

Then I got the ESA decision that put me in the Work Related Activity Group again. That was stress of the not-good kind. I'm appealing it, but unhappy that I have to, when I clearly can't walk 50 metres - or even 10 - without experiencing severe exhaustion and significant pain. I've been referred to the NHS wheelchair service. I have a loaner wheelchair while I wait for the appointment.

Then there was all the stuff in the Lords, and the Spartacus report, and the continued disabled bashing in the news. The latter is having the intended effect. Even my carers have started making occasional references to people faking disability, despite the evidence of fraud being 0.5%, and the expense from it less than official error.

I wish they'd just treat us with dignity and assume we're acting in good faith and telling the truth about our own experiences. I so wish that.