Don't Get Sick In Ireland

national | housing | feature Friday January 06, 2006 03:05 by Observer2 observer.two at gmail dot com

'"Jaysus" sez Wag "I aint seen hoop jumping as good as this since the dolphins at Seaworld."

Don't get sick in ireland, a friend recently advised me. Of course my friend was referring to our antiquated and underfunded hospital service where there is a better chance of catching MRSA than getting a bed. Lo and behold only a matter of weeks after this comment was made to me and I fell ill. Thankfully my illness didn't necessitate a visit to hospital, however my doctor did advise me that I would be off work for a month and maybe longer and that I should rest and avoid any stressful situations.

Not to worry, I thought, sure I'm insured against this type of thing. I pay my P.R.S.I(almost 5 grand between my own and my employers contribution in 2005) and can therefore claim disability benefit. No problem there. But what about my extortionate rent? I could claim rent allowance from my local C.W.O. So I set about it. First, I had to find out where my local C.W.O operated from. I phoned what used to be the health board and after six phonecalls(daytime rates from a mobile at 55cent per minute) I discovered where to go. So off I set, down to the local health centre which turned out to be a short bus ride away. I would have walked but I am sick and walking any distance is a problem, naturally. No problem said the C.W.O, just get this form (s.w.a 3) filled out. One section to be completed by me, one by the landlord and one by Dublin City Council.

No problem? This is where the real problems began. I took another bus ride to D.C.C offices on the quays to get them to stamp my form for me. Simple enough one would think, but no. Sorry, says the bloke behind the counter, but you have to fill out one of our forms first and he directs me to a stand nearby containing D.C.C housing application forms. The form turns out to be a 12 page booklet that I must fill out.However before I can hand it in to D.C.C and get my S.W.A form stamped I must take the D.C.C form away with me and bring it to the tax office to get it stamped there. Another bus ride back into O'Connell street to the tax office where there is another queue. Get the thing stamped, eventually, and it's back on the bus to the Social welfare office where i must now get them to stamp it. Back on the bus and off to D.C.C again. Another queue, and eventually I hand in this application for housing from D.C.C and get my S.W.A form stamped. Back onto the bus again and home. All that is left to do now is take the form back to my C.W.O and my rent allowance should be paid to me in due course. Six phone calls, six bus rides, endless queuing and quite a lot of stress.

At my final(hopefully) visit to D.C.C I asked the girl what my chances were of being housed, none she told me. I would either need to get married and have a couple of kids or wait until I reach O.A.P status before there is any possibility of me being housed. Why all the form filling then? I asked, procedure she replied sympathetically. I mused that I was glad I hadn't got an illness that would keep me indoors or it would have been impossible for me to make my claim.The whole experience caused me to ask myself some questions: What about people who are too ill to leave their homes? What if I had been a single parent with a couple of kids, having to drag them back and forth across the city to have pieces of paper stamped?What about the phone calls and the bus fares, not to mention the stress? Who invented this ridiculous system?And is it dliberately designed to dissuade people from claiming their entitlements? Why is it necessary that in order for me to apply for rent allowance, which is a maximum of 90euro per week, that I had to go to four different state agencies to get a completely irrelevant piece of paper (a D.C.C housing application for a single person is, believe me, an irrelevant piece of paper) stamped. Why is it that a person who is certified by a medical doctor as being sick is expected to go through this ridiculous charade?

So I'm passing on the advice I received from my friend, good advice it turned out to be, do not whatever you do, get sick in Ireland.

Other stories: No time for small details in emergency