The system is the system is the system

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Today I met my new job consultant. I haven’t had one since June, and my internship ends in two months, but hey, better late than never, right?

Her job is basically to help me fulfill the goals set by myself and the job center (mainly by the job center). I was a little surprised, though, when she told me that their goal was to get me working 37 hours per week. That is not what my caseworker and I agreed on. We’d agreed to keep the goal at 25 hours per week, since it’s pretty clear I can’t work more than that.

I pointed out to my consultant that I generally have one sick-day every week, which means that I’m not actually working 20 hours, but 15 hours per week these days. From the 16th of December, I’m supposed to move up to 25 hours, as my caseworker and I agreed on. But if I continue to have one sick-day a week, I’d still only be working 20, not 25. My consultant then told me that I should count the sick-days as normal workdays, and not put that workload on another day instead. Which is what I’m already doing.

She told me that she would make a plan for slowly increasing my hours up to 30 by mid-January, as she also didn’t find it likely that I’d be able to have a full work week. And then we’ll just see how it goes, and meet again in the beginning of January.

Now, I haven’t heard from my “rehabilitation team” since January this year. They seemed very motivated to help me at the time, insisting that I should get further professionel treatment for my physical pains. I was “ordered” to go to a rheumatologist, get his/her professional opinion, and take it from there. If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you’ll know that the rheumatologist took one look and me and went, “Well, seems like chronic pains. You’ll probably have it for the rest of your life. All you can do is try to limit the pain, with regular exercise and pain killers.” At least he was kind enough as to not force me to take even more medication, as he felt I was taking enough already.

My doctor then referred me to a clinic for people suffering from different kinds of chronic pains. But they rejected me, said I didn’t fit their requirements for treatment. Oh, well.

After that, nothing. I’m just paying for my own physiotherapy, and my dad pays for my gym membership.

The thing is… Right now, it’s not my mental health that’s keeping me from working even part-time hours. It’s my physical state. And if nothing is done about it, I won’t be able to work more than 15 – max 20 hours per week. Simple fact.

So … will they do anything about it? Will they help me? Who knows. Who knows if I’ll ever again meet those people I met on that day in January, who sat there with their laptops and notebooks and made me feel like I was doing exams all over again. They sat there, like judges, trying to figure out what to do with me. “How do we get this young woman back on the job market with minimum effort and as cheap as possible?” Maybe I’m being too rough on them… maybe they’re just over-worked and don’t have the capacity to actually check up on their cases. Whooo knoooows.

I guess all I can do is try to work more hours, and call in sick when I’m in too much pain. And then I’ll talk to my caseworker in two weeks (over the phone, mind you), and see what she has to say. Maybe she had a chat with the rheumatologist who gave me that kinda “loose” diagnosis, maybe she’s convinced the pain clinic to take me in, or maybe she hasn’t done one single fucking thing. I’m betting on the last one. It’s a classic.

Sorry for sounding so pessimistic, but… the system is the system is the system. I do hope she’ll bring me some good news, but I gotta say – my caseworkers usually don’t have much news to bring altogether.

Anyway. Dua Lipa is coming to Copenhagen next year, so hey, at least there’s that, right?! Ticket sales open on the 6th. Wish me luck ya’ll! … you know, with both the pain stuff and the concert tickets. Thanks in advance! 😀