Alison Bennett

I want to begin today not with statistics or slogans, but with the reality of just one life: a constituent of mine, Sarah, from Hassocks. Sarah has a spinal cord injury. She is a wheelchair user, and this is what her personal independence payment makes possible. It pays for underwear that does not dig into her skin, wedge pillows to raise her legs, grabber sticks, so that she can pick things up off the floor, and a second wheelchair to keep upstairs. It covers the use of a specialist rehabilitation gym that keeps her as healthy as possible. It allows her to buy heated blankets for the cold weather, because the cold weather makes her pain worse. It pays for specialist outdoor clothes from Norway to cover her legs, and in hot weather, it pays for extra fans, because the heat makes her injured body swell. Sarah’s PIP funds a CPAP—continuous positive airway pressure—machine that runs 24 hours a day, connected directly to the hospital, because she has developed sleep apnoea, and it pays for the additional electricity to keep it going. It pays for a specialist mattress to prevent pressure sores, bathing aides and specialist body wipes for when cleaning herself is just too difficult. It pays for extra fuel for an average of four medical appointments each month, some in Hassocks and some as far away as London, and it has helped to make her garden accessible so that there is at least one part of her home where she feels free. These are not luxuries; they are the bare essentials that allow Sarah to live in dignity, with some measure of independence. Sarah told me she has no faith in the system operated by the Department for Work and Pensions and no trust that fair and just decisions will be reached, because in her experience, the DWP’s overriding drive is not to understand but simply to cut.